Wertham's Law
by RobinRocks
Summary: [A BatmanxRobin love story] In 1954, Dr Fredric Wertham wrote a book called Seduction of the Innocent, in which he accused Batman and Robin of being gay. So naturally there’s fun afoot when the Teen Titans visit Gotham! Cowritten with Narroch. SATIRE.
1. Prologue: Context and Explanation

_Prologue: _Introduction and Context 

_Please take a minute to read this; you will appreciate **Wertham's Law** much more if you do._

Ah, the notorious Dr Fredric Wertham. His name will be familiar with both older-generation and hardcore _Batman_ fans; and in most cases, it will be a name spoken with contempt and disdain.

In 1954, Dr Wertham wrote a book called _Seduction of the Innocent_, and in doing so, he almost accomplished what either the Joker, Two-Face or Poison Ivy have never managed to do:

Destroy Batman.

_Seduction of the Innocent_ was part of a tirade that Wertham launched in the 1950s against comic books in general; in it, he tried to convince parents that reading comics would encourage their children to become deviants, or to copy the criminal behavior of various villains. Dr Will Brooker (his PhD is in… _Batman_! Seriously! And he got it at Cardiff University in Wales, which is where I live – my house is about fifteen minutes from Cardiff University) defended some of Wertham's motives in his book, _Batman Unmasked_ (deeply fascinating book, I would recommend reading it…), as Wertham did highlight some of the more unsavory things that were published in comic books at the time, mostly the pulps and horror comics – things such as intense racism against African-Americans and images of women being raped and tortured.

So Wertham did, according to Brooker, have a few good deeds on his agenda when he wrote _Seduction of the Innocent_.

However – and this is what may put the bad taste in your mouth – Wertham also dedicated four entire pages of his book to _Batman_, launching his longest-ever attack on any comic book character, claiming that Batman had homo-erotic relations with Robin.

You have to put this accusation into context; we are a lot more open-minded today. We have movies like _Brokeback Mountain_, TV shows like _The L Word_,and actors and film stars who are openly gay. People still have their hang-ups but on the whole it's a lot more acceptable to be a homosexual in this day and age.

In 1954, it was as taboo and unacceptable as you'd think possible. Men who admitted to being gay were put into mental institutions and on the whole it was seen to be an "evil, sinful practice", termed as "sex perversion" rather than "homosexuality". Wertham himself ran one of these institutions, the rather sinister-sounding "Quaker Emergency Service Readjustment Center" in New York, where he studied the psychotherapy of so-called "sexual difficulties". He said, in the pages of _Seduction_, that some individuals he had interviewed and studied often fantasized about this (BatmanxRobin) relationship, or imagined trading places with either Batman or Robin. Wertham also drew his accusations from the pages of the comics themselves, taking note of the artwork and settings. The most infamous passage from the book is;

"_At home they lead an idyllic life. They are Bruce Wayne and "Dick" Grayson. Bruce Wayne is described as a "socialite" and the official relationship is that Dick is Bruce's ward. They live in sumptuous quarters, with beautiful flowers in large vases, and have a butler, Alfred. Bruce is sometimes shown in a dressing gown. As they sit by the fireplace the young boy sometimes worries about his partner… it is like a wish dream of two homosexuals living together." _– Dr Fredric Wertham, _Seduction of the Innocent_ (1954)

Okay, well… while I'll come to some more cement ideas in a moment, it can't be denied that the above… is very _bad_ evidence for Batman and Robin being gay. They have flowers and a butler. So what? Andy Medhurst, a rampant critic of Wertham, wrote in his essay, 'Batman, Deviance and Camp', published in_ The Many Lives of the Batman_:

"_To avoid being thought "queer" by Wertham, Bruce and Dick should have done the following: never show concern if the other is hurt, live in a shack, have only ugly flowers in small vases, never share a couch, keep your collar buttoned up, keep your jacket on and never, ever wear a dressing gown." _– Andy Medhurst, 'Batman, Deviance and Camp', _The Many Lives of the Batman_ (1991)

Although Medhurst is even a little cruel in the way in which he brands Wertham, rejoicing in gags like "Nightmare on Psychiatry Street: Freddy's Obsession", and calling him a "crazed homophobe with a project of shrill witch-hunting, whereby he points his finger at the Dynamic Duo and cries "Queer!"…", he does have a point. What did Wertham want from Bruce and Dick? For them to never speak to one another?

But there is no question; _Seduction of the Innocent_ did open up an entire new way of reading _Batman_. Although his accusations did cause sales to drop drastically, _Batman_ pulled through and Wertham's plan actually backfired; a lot of people began reading the relationship between Batman and Robin that way. If only he'd kept quiet instead of complaining about it, it might have been confined to a few sexually-confused boys at a readjustment center in New York.

Truthfully, no matter how it can be read (and if you look hard enough, you _can_ pull "slashy" elements out of the partnership if you want), I don't think DC ever intended for homosexual undertones to be in the _Batman_ comics. Robin was invented in 1940 to boost sales and if he hadn't worked, he probably would have been scrapped within the year; and his being male I think was probably because DC were actually bending over backwards to avoid even the _suggestion_ of sex and accusations they might have received had Batman's partner been a young girl instead. Instead they fell into the trap that Wertham used against them; that Batman and Robin's adventures had the power to turn the children that read the comics gay.

However, it must be pointed out that Robin's role in the comics was not only that of the "sidekick", but also of the "princess" or the "prize"; he was kidnapped, and Batman would have to surrender or something to ensure his safety – mirroring the _Superman_ narratives, in which Lois Lane was captured frequently instead.

And who is Lois Lane but Superman's… _girlfriend_?

Two more interesting points before we get started; Dr Will Brooker himself has actually admitted that while he defends the honor of his hero and dismisses the idea that DC deliberately intended for homo-erotic undertones to read into the comics, he thinks that, "in real-life, they would probably be gay".

Second: Burt Ward, who played Robin/Dick Grayson in the 60s ABC _Batman_ TV series (co-starring Adam West), wrote a rather interesting passage in his autobiography, under the chapter he entitled simply, _Are Batman and Robin Gay?_. In it, it would appear that he has a similar view to Wertham, only more so, looking at character dynamics rather than interior design;

"_A mature man, unmarried and rarely seen in the company of women, takes a naïve teenage boy under his wing. The boy isn't adopted, so there is no father/son relationship – and there has never been any such intention. They share many secrets and spend long hours alone together in remote areas – undisturbed in a massive, impenetrable cave." _– Burt Ward, 'Are Batman and Robin Gay?', _Boy Wonder: My Life in Tights_ (1995)

What Ward implies is that Batman actually _corrupted_ Robin; in the comics, Dick Grayson was only eight years old when his parents were killed. If Bruce had truly wanted such a thing from the boy, it would have been easy for him to bring him around to his way. The boy wouldn't realize that such behavior is wrong (pedophilia, if nothing else); he simply wouldn't know any better.

The 60s TV series itself did play up the "homosexual accusations" in its camp, satirical style, so much that it has perhaps now been integrated as part of Batman's long and rich history. George Melly, in his book _Revolt into Style: The Pop Arts in Britain_ (1970), recalls that "Over the children's heads we winked and nudged as we watched, but in the end what were we really laughing at? The fact that they didn't know that Batman had it off with Robin".

Well, believe what you will of the Batman and Robin relationship. _This_ story… is satire. What if Wertham was right; what if Batman and Robin really _were_ gay? What if, after months and even a few _years_ of "living clean" with the Teen Titans, Robin returns to Wayne Manor, only to find himself returning to Bruce's arms as well?…

A long shot; but if Wertham is to be taken seriously, maybe even plausible.

Let us only be glad that Wertham is not alive in this day and age; if he could draw homosexual readings out of the 50s _Batman_ comics, I'd hate to see what he would do with Joel Schumacher's _Batman and Robin_, in all its rubber-nippled glory…


	2. I: Wayne's World

If you are here after struggling through the essay that I wrote especially to explain the context of this fic, thankyou very much for your patience. If you skipped it, I can understand why, but I think this fic will make for better reading if you understand the background of it – the fact that this is a satirical "What If" account based on Fredric Wertham's 1954 accusations.

And I repeat: SATIRICAL. Defined, it is written as though deadly serious… but it isn't. So please don't leave flames saying that we're sick and that Batman would never get it on with Robin, because we KNOW. That's why this fic is _satire_. You _can_ take it seriously if you want, because I suppose it _does_ have its angsty moments, but realistically…

It's satire.

And, well… This is a brand new fic co-written by myself and my co-author/partner-in-crime Narroch06, and has been posted today – Wednesday 18th October – for a special commemorative reason.

Exactly one year ago, on Tuesday 18th October, 2005, when I was but a newbie to this site and had the grand total of only three fics, I got a review for the first part of my trilogy, _Asylum_, from someone called Narroch06; who then became a regular reader, then my co-author when I begged for help on _Small Print_, and finally my very good friend (and the one responsible for my _FAKE_ obsession, but that's a whole other story…).

It's been one entire year to the day since we "met", and over that year I think we have really raised the bars.

So we thought we'd celebrate.

Hooray for us!

Oh, and one last thing: This fic is a BatmanxRobin pairing. It is categorized as _Teen Titans_. It is NOT in the wrong section, as you will see, although it does cross to some extent into the _Batman: TAS _section. But it's _TT_.

_Wertham's Law – _I

Wayne's World

"I'm surprised you agreed to this," Cyborg said, taking his eyes – one real, one mechanical – off the road for a moment to look over at the brightly-clad boy riding shotgun next to him. "You usually turn him down."

Staring bleakly out of the window of the T-car, Robin shrugged.

"Ran out of excuses." His tone was sulky and uninterested.

"Oh, I think it was most kind of Mr Wayne to invite us to stay at his large and beautiful mansion in the city of Gotham!" Starfire put in cheerfully, leaning over the front seats.

"It's only for, like, three days, at the _most_," Robin replied shortly, looking at her in the rear-view mirror. "Maybe less. I don't like to leave the city unprotected."

"Aw, c'mon, man," Cyborg reassured him. "You know Bumblebee and the rest of Titans East will keep an eye on it. I emailed the surveillance feeds to their computer system. And if there's any trouble, they'll zip over and put a stop to it."

"Besides, we deserve a break," Beast Boy put in from where he was wedged between Starfire and Raven in the backseat. "It's been a busy week. First that trouble with Control Freak trying to take over the video games con, then Mad Mod's hypno-ring internet scam—"

"Bearing in mind that _you're_ one of the ones who _fell_ for his hypno-ring scam," Raven reminded him coolly. "Beast Boy, if a website is giving away something free, there's obviously a catch…"

"Thanks for the heads up, Raven," Beast Boy muttered darkly.

"Anyway, as I was saying," Robin cut in sharply, folding his arms, "we can't stay for too long. We have a job to do, and we're needed elsewhere. And anyway, I don't know why he's even bothering – we won't see very much of him. He'll be busy at Wayne Enterprises, or out busting kneecaps in dark back-allies…"

"Maybe he just wants to see you, man," Cyborg replied patiently. "You ever think of that? You've only spoken to him on the phone. He hasn't seen you in person for… what, about a year?"

"I think it's nearer to two."

"There you are then."

"Well, I'm _busy_. _He's_ busy. We don't have time for little monthly reunion tea-parties," Robin snapped. "I haven't seen him since I left and formed the Titans with you guys. That's probably _over_ two years, actually…"

"You don't sound very enthusiastic about seeing him again," Raven noted in her usual bored tone.

"I'm not." Robin rocked irritably in his seat.

"Why?" Starfire was back leaning over the seat again, her green eyes wide.

"Because he's a pain in the ass!" Robin snapped, batting her away. "Treats me like a freaking two year old… That's why I left and went solo. He wouldn't treat me like an adult."

"You _aren't_ an adult," Cyborg reminded him, not looking at him as he shifted gears.

"Oh, you know what I mean," Robin sighed. "He refused to treat me differently, even though I was getting older."

"Fourteen isn't _that_ old."

"It's older than _eight_."

Cyborg shrugged amiably.

"Can't argue with that…"

"Well, I look forward to meeting him!" Starfire said, clapping her hands together.

"Me too!" Beast Boy added enthusiastically. "Hey, Robin, you think he'll let me take the Batmobile for a quick spin?"

Robin looked over the seat at him.

"Beast Boy, he wouldn't let _me_ take the Batmobile for a quick spin. And besides, you can't even _drive_…"

Beast Boy's ears dropped, taking that as a no.

"Well, I think it's gonna be fun," Cyborg put in. "We get the run of an entire mansion; and by the sound of it, there's something for everyone."

"Oh, yeah," Robin agreed dryly. "A gym for you, Cy, a library for Raven, a games room for Beast Boy and… well, everything else for Star…"

Starfire beamed.

"Oh yes, perhaps Mr Wayne would like to try some of my freshly-made klorklop?"

"I don't think Robin would be very happy if you killed Bruce Wayne, Star," Beast Boy answered, wrinkling his green nose in disgust. "Nor would the ladies of Gotham… Is it true that he's a notorious playboy, Robin?"

"What?" Robin blinked. "Oh, yeah, I guess…" he said, his voice vague.

Not mentioning it was all a front.

With every mile of tarmac the tires of the T-car bit, he drew closer and closer to an overbearing past he had tried to leave behind him when he came to Jump City and formed the Teen Titans.

Truthfully, Bruce had never wanted to let him go.

But Robin had been right about his "growing up"; at the time of his departure, when he was fourteen, he had been beginning to realize that Bruce's treatment of him wasn't exactly… _normal_.

That it was a little _too_ affectionate.

That those little gropes and brushes; small licks and kisses weren't acceptable.

That Batman stopping the Batmobile in some remote place, putting it on lock-down; and then turning on him, caressing him, undressing him and then having his way with him on the wide leather backseat of the car wasn't _right_.

So he had left. Gotten away from it.

_Ran_ away from it, because he was starting to realize that it was _wrong_.

Oh, so wrong—

"Robin!"

Robin blinked and lifted his head; the rest of them were all watching him, even Cyborg, who should have had his eyes on the road.

"What?"

"I asked you twice already, and now I'll ask a third time," Cyborg said. "What's there for _you_?"

"Oh." Robin shrugged again. "The BatCave, I guess…"

_And Bruce's bed._

Shifting uncomfortably and going silent, he didn't voice that last part aloud.

**TT**

Slamming the car door shut, Robin looked up at the vast expanse of Wayne Manor. It was so tall that it hid the sun behind it, glaring out from behind the sharp jutting edges, and juxtaposing its stark outline with the completely shaded front. The architecture was as beautiful and gothic-inspired and unforgiving as he remembered it.

Cyborg came up beside him, whistling in awe.

"Bigger than I imagined," he commented.

Robin smiled thinly.

"You expected a shack?"

"Not at all, but I mean…" The half-robot whistled again.

"We should go inside before someone sees us," Robin stated shortly. "Our costumes aren't exactly inconspicuous."

"Alright, I'll get the cases…"

No sooner had Cyborg departed then Beast Boy had sidled up.

"Sweet digs," he commented. "You really lived here?"

"Six years."

"Something tells me you aren't too thrilled to be back," Raven commented.

Robin glanced at her.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yeah." Her expression softened. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"No."

Raven shrugged.

"Okay, well, we're here for you when you do."

"Nothing's wrong." Robin took a deep breath. "Everything's fine. I'm just… nervous…"

"Fear not, Robin!" Starfire told him, appearing beside him midair. "He will be pleased to see you."

"I should hope so," Robin replied icily. "_He's_ the one who invited us."

"_Pleased" to see me. Yeah, **that's** what worries me…_

He pushed past them and made his way up to the impressively large front door. He found the bell, hesitating before ringing, and then stepped back as his friends joined him, Cyborg with all five cases piled up on one shoulder.

For a moment there was complete silence but for the rustling of a few brittle fallen leaves making their way across the gravel of the driveway with the help of the crisp October wind.

Then there was the faint interior sound of footsteps and the huge front door opened a little.

"Wayne Manor. How may I be of assistance?"

English accent.

Despite himself, Robin cracked a smile.

Alfred.

He gave a shy little wave and immediately the door opened wide.

"Why, Master D—"

Alfred caught himself, catching sight of the uniform.

"—Robin!"

"_Drobin_?" Beast Boy asked. "That just his accent or what?"

"He said "Robin"," Robin snapped. Turning back to Alfred, his smile crept back. He might not particularly want to see Bruce, but Alfred was a different matter entirely. "Good to see you, Alfred."

"I feel the same, Master Robin." Alfred stood aside and gestured with his arm. "Won't you please come in?"

Robin nodded for the others to go ahead of him, which they did, Beast Boy practically tripping over himself in his anticipation.

"Where's Bruce?" Robin muttered confidentially to Alfred as he stepped past and the butler shut the door.

"Ah, upstairs, I believe."

Robin's stomach sank. So Bruce hadn't left for work yet. Great; he'd have to avoid him now.

"He is greatly excited about seeing you again," Alfred went on.

_I'll just bet he is…_

"Ah, Master Dick, if I may call you that," Alfred whispered, falling into step alongside the boy as he trailed behind his awestruck friends.

"Okay, but keep it quiet. They'd just laugh…"

"I see. Ah, it's about your clothing, and the clothing of your friends… You know that you cannot wear-"

"We brought regular clothes with us."

"Ah, excellently prepared, I see."

"After six years of having two identities, I should hope so, Alfred."

"Yes, Master Bruce tells me that you and your friends do not bother with secret identities?"

"Nope. I'm just Robin 24-7. It's a lot easier…"

"I should think so."

They caught up to the Titans, who were standing at the far end of the entrance hall, gazing around in wonder at the polished marble architecture; with the exception of Starfire, who was floating up next to the antique chandelier, her eyes wide and reflecting the glittering gems. She was just reaching out to stroke one of the rainbow filled crystals—

"Ah, no, miss!" Alfred called up to her, startling her. "It is rather fragile."

"Star, don't touch it," Robin told her irritably, rephrasing Alfred's polite imperative.

Starfire blinked and giggled sheepishly, floating back to join the others.

Alfred pushed open the door at the end of the hall.

"Please come through to the drawing room. I will fetch some tea and biscuits."

"Biscuits?" Beast Boy asked.

"Cookies," Robin 'translated' wearily for him.

"Oh." Beast Boy grinned embarrassedly. "British lingo…"

"What, that Mad Mod trouble last week didn't teach you _anything_?" Cyborg asked incredulously. "You've heard the way the dude talks."

"True," Raven added coolly. "I am not, nor will I _ever_ be, a 'ducky'."

"A form of affectionate address, miss," Alfred offered. "It does not imply that you are a "ducky" of the fowl variety." He looked at Cyborg. "Please, leave the cases where they are. I will attend to them in just a moment."

Cyborg looked over at Robin, who nodded.

"Okay."

Cyborg ditched the cases in an abrupt pile and went through to the drawing room, the others not far behind. Robin brought up the rear, realizing that he had anxiety butterflies for some reason.

Why was he so nervous about seeing Bruce again? He knew Bruce; he liked and trusted him. He had practically been a surrogate father to him for six years. He had trained to him to fight, to be a detective; had taken him on as his crime-fighting partner.

But Bruce had been a whole lot more too.

Raven and Cyborg made themselves at home on one of the plush couches, while Robin claimed a familiar armchair and curled broodingly in it, his hands gripping the armrests; Beast Boy and Starfire didn't even sit, instead wandering around the drawing room looking at all of the ornaments and decorations in complete and utter awe. Alfred had vanished.

"Robin, I gotta tell ya, this is one awesome crib," Beast Boy commented without bothering to pause his survey of the room.

Robin smiled sourly.

"I think Titans Tower could give it a run for its money."

"Naw, this place would kick the Tower's ass," Cyborg put in. "I hate to admit, but it's true…"

Robin shot him an unexpectedly spiteful look, which seemed to take Cyborg aback.

"Yo, what's up with you?"

"Nothing." Robin curled up more tightly. "Just a little cranky, I guess. I didn't get much sleep last night."

Which wasn't a lie. He had been lying awake half the night worrying about the next day.

"Yeah, well, if you're gonna be such a grouch, go back to Sesame Street," Beast Boy quipped.

The other four all stared at him.

"What?" Cyborg asked eventually, voicing the whole group's confusion.

Beast Boy sighed dramatically.

"Oh, you people… my comedy is _wasted_… Oscar the Grouch, from _Sesame Street_? You know, the green one in the garbage can?"

Robin raised his eyebrows in brief acknowledgement, while Cyborg shook his head sadly.

"_I'm_ worried that you can name such obscure _Sesame Street_ characters," Raven pointed out.

"Friends, please, what is this "Sesame Street"? It is some kind of sandwich?" Starfire asked.

"That's a sesame _bun_, Star," Cyborg corrected. "_Sesame **Street**_ is a kid's TV show that Beast Boy, as a teenager, should not be watching…"

"It was funny in my head…" Beast Boy muttered.

"Oh, we all _know_ you're 'funny in the head', B," Cyborg agreed pleasantly, deliberately misinterpreting the statement.

"Hey!"

"Here we are." Alfred was back, carrying a large silver tray on which were five dainty cups with matching saucers, a shining silver teapot, and two plates of neatly-arranged and color-coordinated biscuits. He put the tray down on the coffee table and picked up the teapot. "Do tuck in. I will pour the tea."

Beast Boy, Starfire and Cyborg all pounced on the biscuits; Robin and Raven exchanged wary glances.

"Oh my!" Alfred appeared shocked by their overzealous snatching. "Now, please… settle down! There is plenty for everyone…"

"These are some good cookies," Beast Boy commented, a trail of cookie crumbs littering his wake as he retreating to a chair with four in each hand and another two in his mouth.

"I second that," Cyborg agreed; Starfire simply nodded, her mouth full.

Robin put his face in his hands; for the first time in his life, he was truly embarrassed by them. Well, _three_ of them; Raven was, of course, being as good as gold, sitting quietly on the couch. Back at Titans Tower, their boisterous behavior was just fine – in fact, he more often than not joined them in a dogpile over the last slice of pizza.

But here, in the drawing room of Wayne Manor, it was suddenly horribly out of place; and seemed both improper and unacceptable.

Alfred was looking at Robin in bewilderment; Robin shook his head, showing his disgust with them.

"I'm sorry about that," he said stiffly, looking murderously at the three of them.

Cyborg and Starfire squirmed embarrassedly in their chairs, but Beast Boy looked miffed.

"Jeez, Robin; if I'd realized you were going to morph into such a stiff the moment we got here I wouldn't have come…"

"You should _know_ how to behave in someone else's house," Robin replied coldly.

There was a few moments' awkward silence.

"Who would like some tea?" Alfred asked, breaking it.

Raven raised her hand immediately, and Alfred tended to her first.

"There we are, miss," he said, handing it to her. "I hope that it is to your liking."

Raven took one sip and the rare smile that broke across her pale face confirmed that she most certainly did.

"Thankyou."

"You are most welcome." Alfred held up the pot. "And everyone else too?"

Everyone else nodded.

"Sure, as long as I don't have to drink it with my pinky in the air…" Beast Boy muttered, looking across at Robin.

Once he had sorted everyone out with their tea, Alfred perched on the arm of Robin's chair and smiled around at them all.

"Well, I suppose I am obliged to introduce myself now that we are all comfortable and catered for," he said. "As young Master Robin may have informed you, I am Alfred Pennyworth, butler to Master Bruce."

"His _keeper_, more like," Robin muttered.

A small smile twitched at Alfred's lips.

"Sometimes it feels that way. As for you and your friends, I will of course attend to all of your needs too for the time during which you stay here."

Robin was dismayed; he considered Alfred to be more of a friend than a butler, and didn't like the thought of Beast Boy taking advantage of that offer – which, he knew, Beast Boy would do. The shape-shifter wasn't deliberately malicious, but the idea of "room service" would be the kind of thing that would appeal to him.

"That won't be necessary, Alfred," he said, touching the butler's arm. "We can look after ourselves. You just get on with your regular job without worrying about us."

"But Master Bruce has insisted that I-"

"Telling tales on me, Alfred?"

Robin's stomach clenched at the sound of that deep familiar voice; all six occupants of the room looked over to the door, where the tall powerful form of Bruce Wayne stood. In a sharp black suit with a crimson tie and white shirt, and with his ebony hair slicked back, his leather briefcase clutched in his hand, he looked every inch the handsome working billionaire playboy everyone assumed him to be.

Bruce smiled and stepped into the room.

"The Teen Titans," he said. "It's an honor." He ran his gaze over them all, his gray eyes lingering on each in turn.

Lingering on Robin a _little_ longer than they did everyone else; the Boy Wonder in question caught the excited glint in them.

And then he averted his eyes again.

"Let's see… now Robin hasn't really told me an awful lot about each of you, so I'll just have to guess…" He pointed at each of them in turn. "Raven, Beast Boy, Starfire and Cyborg."

Starfire clapped her hands together and giggled, Raven gave an impressed little smile and Beast Boy and Cyborg positively _stared_ at him.

Bruce grinned and moved around the room to shake hands with them.

"It's nice to finally meet all of you…"

"Oh, it is most wonderful to meet you too, Mr Wayne!" Starfire cried, hugging him tightly. "Thankyou so much for allowing us to stay at your beautiful mansion!"

"Please, Starfire," Bruce gushed, taking her hand. "Call me Bruce."

Starfire giggled and blushed prettily.

Robin used the distraction to deliberately and inconspicuously spill his tea down the front of his outfit.

"Oh!" He leapt up, playing it up. "I spilt my tea. Guess I should-"

"No, no, Master Robin!" Alfred was on his feet too. "Please, allow me!"

"It's okay, Alfred, I should go change," Robin argued, his tone near pleading. "I'll take my case upstairs to my old room…"

He was halfway across the room before Alfred could stop him.

"Back in a moment!" He called to his friends. "Have a good day at work, Bruce!"

He scarpered, fleeing down the hallway and halfway up the staircase. He stopped at one of the bends that led off to one of the many wings and hid in the shadows. From here, through the bars of the banister, he had a clear view of the front door. He would wait until Bruce was gone and then go and change. Bruce wouldn't stay much longer anyway, or else he would be late.

Five minutes ticked by, then ten. After fifteen Robin began to wonder if Bruce had gone out of one of the other doors – surely he wouldn't still be here? He would certainly be late for work…

Robin leaned out from his hiding place and ventured down a few of the steps, wondering if he had—

"I'm behind you, actually."

Robin made a stifled sound and almost fell down the stairs from shock. Regaining his balance, he whipped around to find that Bruce was indeed towering behind him.

And more to the point, he didn't look very amused.

"Hiding from me?" He asked coolly.

"I… I was…" Robin struggled to find his voice, which had jumped up an octave from his sudden exposure. "I was…"

"Hiding," Bruce confirmed, regarded him icily, all the excitement gone from his eyes. "Two years, and I don't even get a hello?"

"Hi," Robin squeaked.

Bruce snorted; then grasped his wrist and pulled him back into the shadows.

"I'd prefer a kiss," he whispered in the boy's ear. His arms began to close around Robin's slight form, but the Boy Wonder managed to wriggle from his grip before he got a proper hold on him.

Bruce's embrace was hard to escape from; in more ways than one.

"I'm not playing those games with you anymore," he hissed. "I came here to see you, not to let you molest me."

Bruce was taken aback.

"It's not molestation if the "molestee" is willing…"

Robin pulled right away from him.

"Leave me alone. I'm not your little toy anymore."

Bruce smiled darkly.

"Then why are you still wearing the uniform?"

Robin flushed dark crimson.

"Shut up!" The boy snapped at him. "I knew coming back here was just going to be trouble."

Bruce's smirk died.

"I just wanted to see you again, Dick. It's been two years; I've missed you."

"Yeah, I'll _bet_ you have; you missed your sweet piece of ass with you on night patrols…"

"Don't talk like that. You know how much you mean to me…"

"On which side of the bedsheets?"

"Don't be so difficult. I _know_ our relationship is… _complicated_… but I never once hurt you. I never once _forced_ you."

Bruce reached for him and Robin recoiled right out of his contact.

"Don't touch me! I'm a Titan now; I'm not yours anymore."

Bruce regarded him coldly.

"I see." He looked at his watch. "I'm going to be late. We'll talk later."

"There's nothing to talk about," the Boy Wonder grumbled, looking to the side.

Seeing that Robin had let his guard down, Bruce grabbed him by the back of the neck and stole a quick deep kiss, then let him go again and stepped past the stunned teen.

"Oh, there's plenty to talk about, Dick…" Bruce started down the staircase, leaving Robin standing on the staircase panting and wiping his mouth.

"Oh, and make sure you and your friends change your clothes!" The billionaire called, his voice suddenly cheerful again. "Can't you have you wandering about in your uniform; what if some unexpected visitor turned up and saw you?"

Bruce opened the front door and went out without a backwards glance, slamming it behind him.

Spitting onto the carpet to get rid of the taste of Bruce, Robin made a vow to get much better at hiding before that evening.

Because there was no way they were going to be "talking" later.

* * *

Not much action yet, but we hope we have enthralled you thus far.

As you may have guessed, this fic is actually already written; it has six chapters (seven including the prologue).

We are proud of it and think you are gonna like it, so please come back…

Oh yeah, each of the chapter titles is alliterative (this one, _Wayne's World_, obviously comes from the Mike Myers _SNL_ sketch/movie of the same name) as a nod to the script style of the ABC 60s _Batman_ TV series, camped up fantastically by the hilariously grave Adam West.

I love that show… He's certainly not Michael Keaton, but I like Adam West… :)

Anyway… the ride's just beginning, so don't be put off – there will be some villainous input later, and Robin and Bruce don't spend the _entire_ fic arguing, so…

Thankyou to Narroch06 for putting up with me this past year!

- RobinRocks xXx

P.S: Yeah, BTW… over here in Britain we _do_ call them biscuits. So if you see them called "biscuits" in the actual narrative, you know I wrote that part…


	3. II: Secrets, Shadows and Sins

I, Narroch, and Robinrocks have teamed up and are back yet again with another chapter of this satire saturated story! Yes this is satire. It feels like some of you are forgetting that fact and have very politely, very kindly, informed us of the out of character-ness. Well, um, yes we know. Thank you for your input (not being sarcastic here) If you feel the characters are OOC, please, don't refrain from letting us know how you feel about it, (we love all kinds of reviews and are eternally grateful for each and everyone of you!) but keep in mind we intended it to be this way because it is 'ahem' SATIRE.

But while we are on this tangent, we have discovered that this story might not be so OOC as we first thought when writing it. I found a website by pure coincidence that takes old (OLD!) comics and highlights frames that can be very easily misinterpreted by a modern reader. In fact they have a section called Seduction of the Innocent which features a lot of sexual references you can draw from comics. And yup, you guessed it; Batman and Robin are in there QUITE a few times.

The site is Superdickery . com, and believe me, it is worth checking out. I think I broke a rib from laughing so hard. But it also shows where Wertham got some of his ideas from. He wasn't just making this stuff up. In the comics, there are a lot of scenes that are ridiculously suggestive. Like Bruce and Dick sleeping in the same bed, Robin leaping head first into people's rear ends, and (our favorite) Batman spanking Robin! (There is more than one of these actually…heh heh)

So yes, while we may poke fun at Wertham and complain that he was a mad over analytical prick, there are some instances where Batman and Robin just act…gay.

So check out that website, and get a good laugh. But FIRST, read this and enjoy!

_Wertham's Law – _II

Secrets, Shadows, and Sins

It was a Gotham October night like all those that Robin remembered; dark, dry, and with a bitter wind that had ice and rime on its breath. It was dirty, and sharp, and it blew right through the flesh with its little polluted razors.

Storm clouds gathered like shadows under tired eyes in the sky, just as Beast Boy's acute animal senses had predicted. There was going to be rain, maybe even a thunderstorm.

Perched at the top of one of the ladders in the stacks of the Wayne Manor Library, Robin picked up his cup of coffee and took another sip. Putting it down, he flipped the page of the heavy leather-bound book he was currently immersed in.

_The Spider's Web_. Agatha Christie. He recalled reading it before, but he still couldn't be sure what was going to happen next.

He was comfortable in a black T-shirt and faded blue designer jeans, having changed at Alfred's request rather than Bruce's. The others had all changed too; and he was amused to see them out of uniform and in causal clothes. Sometimes they dressed up if invited for publicity to a charity dinner or whatever, but he had never seen them in "casual" clothing.

He looked over at Raven now; dressed in black pants and a tight black velvet and lace top, she was balanced atop another high stack, her nose in a book too. He had known that Raven would like the library, and was happy to be able to share it with one of his friends. She was the only one who appreciated it, however; Beast Boy (in a red tee and khakis) and Cyborg (who had donned an oversized black sweatshirt and matching sweatpants) had made the games room their own, and Starfire (in white shorts and a lavender tie-dye purple crop top despite the bitter October weather) was getting the tour of Wayne Manor from Alfred – she had promptly attached herself limpet-like to the elderly butler, fascinated by his foreign mannerisms and proper English accent. She also found the heritage and artifacts of the house deeply enchanting and Alfred, a keen history enthusiast, was only too willing to tell everything he knew to the first genuinely-interested "audience" he had ever had. Starfire also liked to "cook", and Alfred, who spent a lot of time in the kitchen, was glad of the company, even if he wasn't too enthusiastic about some of the recipes she offered him. Overall, Robin found them an amusing pair at any rate; a proper Englishman and an alien princess.

It was getting rather late. Bruce wasn't back yet; he had rushed in at 5:00pm, hurriedly informing Alfred that he had a date that evening with Vicki Vale. Robin had been in the room at the time, and he could have sworn that Bruce sent a slightly malicious smirk in his direction when Alfred wasn't looking.

Robin understood. Revenge for Robin's snubbing of him that morning. He had probably phoned up Vicki and poured on the charm, offering to take her to the most expensive restaurant in Gotham; all to get back at a teenaged boy who was no longer interested in him.

Bruce could be pretty childish sometimes.

Robin knew he hadn't heard the end of this; and that he was playing with fire. Bruce's words that morning had indeed been true; he had never forced him, never hurt him, never _raped_ him. He had, on the contrary – even in his Batman uniform – always been very gentle with the young boy, allowing him to take it at his own pace and stopping if he cried in pain or discomfort.

But Bruce was also pretty… forceful, in his own way. Not physically; he had never smacked Robin around to get his own way. But there was something about him – something about those intense, haunted stony eyes – that made you never refuse him.

Robin had never refused him before.

And now that he had – now that he had put his foot down… well, exactly that. He had never done it before. He just didn't know what Bruce's reaction would be. He most certainly wasn't happy, Robin could tell, but at the moment he was simply resorting to envy tactics. Attempting to make Robin jealous by taking Vicki Vale out and giving her a good time.

In _all_ senses of the word.

The playboy façade _was_ all just show; but Robin often questioned if Bruce _was_ actually gay. Truthfully, he didn't think he _was_ – he didn't think he was even _bi_. He certainly liked his women, carefully choosing only the most delectable arm-candy. Selina Kyle (when she wasn't behind bars). Vicki Vale. Talia Head, daughter of Ra's al Ghul. Even Lois Lane a few times (Superman had _not_ been pleased).

Anybody truly gay, he reasoned, would take whoever he could get simply to keep up the pretence. And Bruce certainly wasn't shy with his dates in the bedroom department either…

No, when he whittled it right down, Robin didn't think Bruce was actually gay.

But he liked _him_. _Loved_ him, even.

Robin had never been quite sure why; why he had wanted _him_ over the golden hair and curves of Selina Kyle, or the ebony hair and dark-skinned beauty of Talia Head. Back then, he had only been grateful for it – Bruce's love and attention.

Because back then, Bruce and Alfred had been all he had.

Now that he was older, he was beginning to realize that Bruce probably sought love in him rather than in Selina or Talia because he could identify with him. Their pain was alike; Bruce had been orphaned as a young child, and so had Robin. Robin knew that Bruce often felt that no-one really knew him, nobody really understood him; save for Robin (Dick) and Alfred.

And before Robin, there had only _been_ Alfred. Someone Bruce had known all his life.

And so, when presented with someone else who had suffered the same agony, Bruce had latched onto it. Pity had turned to passion, understanding to lust.

He fell in love because Robin had the same aches and pains in his heart and the same scars on his soul.

It was, in a way, as though Bruce had fallen in love with himself, and had manifested that love onto the boy in his care.

At first, all those years ago, Robin had liked it. Liked the pleasurable feelings that Bruce gave to him, and wanted the love that Bruce gave to him. It almost made up for the loss of his parents; because at night, when he lay underneath Bruce's much larger form, or when Batman had a quick little feel when he picked him up to carry them both to safety by the aid of his grappling hook, he had known that _Bruce_ had wanted him.

That his insignificant existence was important to _someone_.

But since leaving it all behind, and walking away from his sheltered existence in Bruce's bat-shaped shadow, he had realized that perhaps…

…what Bruce had been doing to him night after night wasn't right. That it was against the law, and also…

…well, it was just _wrong_. Bruce had, no matter how good his intentions, and no matter how kind and gentle he had been, taken advantage of him; of his age and naïveté. Robin had simply not known any better, and as he grew, that naïveté grew with him. It had never occurred to him that it could be wrong until he was about fourteen and something about it just no longer _felt_ right.

Like he had known deep inside that they could both, if discovered, get into _very_ serious trouble with the law.

That he might even be taken away from Bruce and thrown into the cruel juggling act of the foster care system.

So he had left. For his own sake, and for Bruce's. As the days and weeks wore on before his departure he became more and more afraid of being found out; he stopped going out places with his mentor, avoided him around the house, requested to be allowed to go off on his own while out on patrol and became so frightened when Bruce attempted to make love to him they couldn't do anything.

Bruce had been concerned about his behavior, as had Alfred; they had both thought that perhaps he was sickening for something, or that he was in some kind of trouble.

They had both been taken aback when he had announced that he was leaving Gotham. That he was going to go to Jump City and start a solo crime-fighting career.

Understandably, neither had wanted him to go. They had said he was too young, too inexperienced, that they would worry constantly for his safety…

He had, eventually, gotten his way; taken his gadgets, his uniform and a few personal belongings, and the rest was history.

He hadn't ever told Bruce the real reason he had left; mumbling things about him being old and responsible enough to handle himself, and he wanted to get out and do his own thing…

He had met the Titans and formed the team. Bruce had, Robin assumed, gotten over him, and probably got his sexual kicks from his various "arm-candy"; the aforementioned buxom beauties Selina, Talia, Vicki and Lois, not to mention countless other beautiful and lucky young women.

At first, Robin had missed Bruce immensely, despite his attraction to a certain pretty alien girl…

Did that make _him_ bi? He certainly liked Starfire; was _he_ not truly gay either?

As Bruce had said, their relationship was… _complicated_.

And illegal. That was why he had left, ultimately. Not so much because he had wanted to get out on his own (although that had been a bonus); but to protect Bruce.

The thought of seeing 'BRUCE WAYNE: PEDOPHILE' across the _Gotham Gazette_ was a thought that had always chilled him to the bone. It seemed to be something that had never even crossed Bruce's mind – it was ironic that the boy he was taking advantage of had seen the danger when he could not.

Ironic that the boy he was taking advantage of had _protected_ him.

Oh yes, Robin had grown up. But _Bruce_… Robin recalled something that Alfred had said to him years ago, regarding Bruce's mentality; "While Master Bruce most certainly became a man, I do not believe he ever truly became an _adult_".

It was true; Bruce lived in a fantasy world of riches, beautiful girls and _bats_. Did he even know what reality _was_?

Robin didn't think that Bruce had ever been _ignorant_ of the fact that having sex with a minor was illegal; it had just never occurred to him that he might be caught and punished by the law for it.

Well, vigilantes… _they_ were against the law _anyway_, weren't they?…

As for Bruce's date that evening… _was_ he jealous?

Maybe a little. But then, it was something he was used to. Bruce had often gone on dates back when Robin was living at Wayne Manor, to keep up his playboy masque. Robin had never minded; particularly as Bruce had whispered in his ear at night, as the boy lay curled in his strong arms, that he loved him more than any of those throwaway dates.

And besides, it wasn't as if _they_ had ever gone on any dates, so there was nothing really to even be jealous _of_.

So why did he mind now?

Because Bruce was doing it for revenge – out of sheer _spite_.

Because Bruce had sent that nasty little smile in his direction. A smile that read "Ha-ha, sorry now, huh?".

Robin scowled. Well, Bruce wasn't going to break him all that easily. Let him sulk and pout and get petty revenge – Robin was doing this for _his_ sake anyway. And if protecting Bruce meant ignoring him and keeping his _own_ legs firmly closed, then that was what he would do.

He had gone two years without Bruce's loving touch. He could most certainly last for three days in his presence.

Oh yes, Robin admitted to himself that he still loved Bruce, even knowing the truth of everything – that Bruce's love probably stemmed from pity, and knowing that Bruce had taken advantage of him, and yes, even knowing that he couldn't and _shouldn't_ love him.

But he _did_ love him, in all kinds of ways, which was why he felt such a burning need to protect him.

Bruce might be able to save every single occupant from a burning apartment building; he might be able to rescue someone falling from the top of Gotham's clock tower.

He might be able to beat off Bane, pull the plug on the Penguin's latest plot or jinx the Joker's most recent jolly jilt.

But Holy Heroics; if there was one person Batman couldn't save, it was _himself_.

Which was why he had Robin.

…Right?

**TT**

Midnight.

Bruce still wasn't back from his date.

Alfred had whipped up a mini-feast for dinner and the six of them had eaten together at the huge table, minus Bruce; Raven had brought her book to the table, Beast Boy and Cyborg had chattered excitedly about all of the games they had played that day, arguing over who was better at which game, and Starfire had been enraptured by Alfred's avid description of how a knight's suit of amour had been made during the Medieval age in Britain.

Robin had sat silently next to Raven, toying with his food.

On one hand, he was glad that Bruce wasn't there; it made being evasive of him very easy, and he had a feeling that the tension between them was going to be awkward when Bruce eventually did reappear.

However, he also wanted Bruce to know that he wasn't amused by his pushy behavior that morning, and sulking with somebody wasn't very effective when they weren't there.

The others had retired to their designated rooms to sleep, or, in Raven's case, probably read in peace.

Alfred was watching TV in the front room; some ancient British comedy programme that Robin didn't recognize.

And Robin himself was sneaking down the stairs to the west wing corridor where the grandfather clock that concealed the entrance to the BatCave stood.

Reaching it, he set the hands to the right numbers – ten to two – and pulled it forward, slipping into the dark wet interior below. He shut the clock back behind him and groped for the light switch; on finding it, he flipped it on, flooding the stairway – carved out of the rock – with dull yellow light. Using that as his guide, he very carefully made his way down the slippery staircase; and then he was _there_.

In the cave of wonders he knew so well.

A few of the resident bats up above screeched and fluttered their leathery little wings; but he knew that the majority of them would be out hunting for moths and bugs at this time of night. On the bat front, it was actually relatively and unusually quiet.

That including _all_ bats.

Looking around, Robin saw all the things he remembered so well; the giant coin, a memento of a Two-Face case; the large mechanical T-rex; the oversized Joker card.

Batman's Trophy Room.

He admitted that the "Evidence Room" in Titans Tower was basically this; the cataloguing of items won in victorious cases. The proud displaying of physical proof that they had defeated a villain. Only that week, Robin had installed three new cases – one holding the hypno-ring from the Mad Mod cases, one the _Warp Trek 5_ replica laser gun Control Freak had attempted to sabotage the Jump City comics con with, and the third some kind of garlic-shaped projectile flung at Beast Boy by a new face in town, a French fellow by the name of Le Blanc.

He really _was_ a _blank_; they had defeated him in less than five minutes. He was arrogant, stuck-up and, most importantly, a total coward; and had quivered up against the safe in the bank he had been attempting to break into after his projectile had failed to detonate and had simply hit Beast Boy on the head and bounced off, dazing the green boy but not damaging him beyond that. After further examination, Cyborg had discovered that the detonation wires inside the garlic-shaped device (a French motif, presumably) hadn't even been _connected_; and so, declared "completely safe and totally lame" by the resident half-robot expert on all things that went "boom!", into the Evidence Room it had gone.

Venturing further into the BatCave, Robin came across the glass case that held his original uniform. Something inside him twanging, he paused to look at it; it was, of course, far too small for him now. He hadn't worn it for very long – about three years, he recalled, from eight to eleven. He had outgrown it then, and ever since he had been wearing the current version of his uniform.

The version with _pants_.

The old one was cute; although, come to think of it, Robin realized with a small shiver… perhaps there had been a little _too_ much of his young flesh on show. Green shorts and pixie boots – they didn't do much to cover your legs.

He put his face in his hands. No _wonder_ Bruce had been so gropey – Robin had practically been _whoring_ himself in that outfit. It positively _screamed_ "I'm one sweet piece of ass, and I'm all _yours_! Come 'n' get me, big boy!".

But then, in retrospect…Bruce hadn't gotten any _less_ affectionate when Robin had changed his uniform to a more decent one.

It seemed that he was simply doomed to be Bruce's sweet piece of ass no matter _what_ he wore.

He looked down and saw a tiny shining gold plaque on the uniform's stand. The writing was very tiny, and Robin squinted at it.

_My Protégé_?

No, wait—

Robin's eye widened in real surprise.

For it didn't read _My Protégé_.

It read _My Prodigy._

Prodigy. It meant genius. Phenomenon. Wonder.

_Boy_ Wonder.

He was touched; so much, in fact, that tears _almost_ came to his eyes.

He didn't even have time to wipe them away (his eyes were wet) as he felt a large, familiar pair of hands slip over his shoulders.

"Do you like it?" Hot breath on the back of his neck; Robin squirmed, half in discomfort and half in pleasure.

"It was… very thoughtful of you," he replied woodenly.

Bruce's grip tightened.

"Still sulking?" He planted a kiss squarely on the back of Robin's neck, just under the crisp hair at the nape of it.

Robin shrugged him away irritably.

"_You're_ the one sulking," he pointed out. "Taking out Vicki Vale to get back at me…"

"I felt guilty, if it means anything to you."

Robin folded his arms, still not turning to him.

"It doesn't."

"I made my excuses and came home early…"

"Then why are you only back now?"

"Bat-signal was lit."

"Oh, I…" Robin turned to him finally; seeing that Bruce was in uniform. "I thought you were…"

"Still Bruce?" Batman smiled uncharacteristically. "The Scarecrow was down at the bank again…"

"His usual haunt, huh?"

"Bad pun, Dick." Batman shook his head despairingly. "Are you ever going to grow out of that?"

Robin actually started to smile as well.

"You know you love it…"

Batman took that as an excuse to close in on him, pinning him up against the glass case.

"I know I love _you_…"

Robin's smile snapped off.

"Bruce, we _talked_ about this…"

"No we didn't." The Dark Knight's faintly-cheerful demeanor was beginning to go down the drain. "You won't have me anymore, but you won't tell me why. You were _mine_, Dick; and now you expect me to accept _that_?"

Robin winced.

"You don't understand…"

"Then explain it to me."

"I don't know where to start."

Batman's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Why don't you start with _why_ I'm suddenly being snubbed by an ungrateful sixteen year old _brat_?" He snapped, pushing the boy harder against the case.

"Bullying me isn't going to work!" Robin spat back. "Don't think you can intimidate me into giving you your way. This is for _your_ benefit!"

"For my benefit?" Batman was both surprised and angry. "Think of me what you will, due to my "notorious playboy" reputation; but I have thought of nothing but you for two whole years… Every morning I wake up to find that you aren't curled up next to me, every evening when I come home from work to find that you aren't sprawled like a cat on the sofa watching TV, every time I come down here and look at that case… Every time I get into uniform alone, get into the Batmobile alone and get into battle with a criminal alone, I think of you. And I _want_ for you. You've tortured me for two whole years, only allowing me a brief telephone talk once a month if I'm lucky; and now that you are finally home and accessible to me, you turn your back on me. How can you justify this as for _my_ benefit when all you have done is _hurt_ me?"

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Robin answered coldly, crushing the guilt rising in him.

_Get a grip, Grayson. He might look all tough and scary in that uniform of his, but he's laying it on pretty thick to get you to feel sorry for him…_

Bruce was good at that; "Dark Avenger of the Gotham Night" or no. He could turn on the charm; and he could turn on the sob-story if it suited him.

It didn't help that he was something of an expert at making Robin feel guilty; he'd been doing it for years. In a way, Robin could see that Bruce actually _manipulated_ him up to a point – but there was no venom in it, no cruelty, no wish to _hurt_ the boy.

Merely a wish to get a good fuck out of him.

Batman looked at him detachedly.

"Don't you feel a _thing_, being back here?" He asked coolly.

Robin looked away; oh, if only Bruce _really_ knew… Because he loved him so much, even though he knew he shouldn't, and even though he loved Starfire; all he wanted right now was to be wrapped in Batman's embrace and be taken to that other fantastical world that only the billionaire held the key to. A world of secret whispers, immortal love that even death could not steal away; of king-sized beds, silk sheets, kindly butlers and _bats_.

A world so many dimensions away from a lonely tower standing proudly on an island in a glittering river; of firm friendship, pizza, wall-to-wall TV; of alien princesses, empaths, shape-shifters and half-robots.

He wanted for each world equally; and would not sacrifice his Teen Titans for Bruce's arms.

Batman seemed to sense this;

"I'm not asking you to leave. But when in Rome—"

"You ever think maybe I'm just sick of you pawing at me?" Robin interrupted him acidly; it broke his heart to be so hurtful towards the man he loved, but if it was necessary, then he would do it. If Bruce would not take the hint, then the only solution was to _drive_ him away with cruel words and lies.

Batman actually flinched as though Robin had slapped him; although, ironically, if Robin really _had_ slapped him, he wouldn't have even _blinked_.

"You don't mean that…" His voice was hoarse; funny that, when faced with the threat of half of Gotham being blown sky high, he was completely unruffled, but when being rejected by the one person he really and truly did love, he was utterly floored.

Seeing that he had gained a weapon, Robin went on the offensive.

"I've grown up, Bruce, and I don't want you messing around with me anymore. I'm sixteen years old, for petesakes – don't think that I don't know you didn't take advantage of me. And if you want to get technical, you also _cheated_ on me, sleeping around with all those other women. I'm a Teen Titan now, and I think I can decide—"

"Shut your mouth!" Batman screamed at him, backhanding him and knocking him to the ground some way away. "You just came back to torment me!"

And then, realizing what he had done, his eyes widened and a sudden look of horror clouded his face. He rushed to Robin's side as the boy righted himself from where he had landed in a crumpled heap.

"Dick, I—" He reached for him with a shaking hand and Robin recoiled, flinching. "Dick, I'm really sorry…"

Robin turned his shocked gaze on him.

"You hit me." He said shakily. He winced as he sat right up; Batman had really hurt him, taking him by surprise, and the landing hadn't done him any favors either.

Batman pulled the shocked boy onto his lap, cradling the boy against his broad chest.

"I know, I shouldn't have. I'm sorry; I never should have hit you…"

Robin shivered in his grip.

"You've… never hit me before…"

Batman kissed his forehead.

"And I won't do it again." His voice was whispered and shaky. "I don't know what came over me, but… you just made me so… _angry_…"

"Bruce, please listen to me…"

"I can't." Batman gripped him more tightly still. "I know what you're going to say, and I _can't_. I _have_ to have you."

"You can't."

"I _can_!" Batman said fiercely.

"Then you'll have to _rape_ me," Robin told him, his voice quiet and quivering.

"I wouldn't." Batman sounded aghast. "You know I would never—"

"Then you won't be having me."

"_Why_?" Now the Dark Knight sounded frustrated. "Why suddenly now? Dick, you don't know what this is doing to me – knowing that you are in the same house as me again but that you won't be mine. That you won't accept my _full_ invitation…"

"I _knew_ that was all you wanted from me," Robin replied frostily. "That's why I kept turning you down."

"I don't understand why you don't want it anymore. Why you don't want _me_ anymore…"

"It's not doing either of us any favors."

"_Are you sure_?" Batman breathed in Robin's ear. "Both of us lost our parents, and you know as well as I do the pain of that… But in you I found something – a love that filled that hole in me. And it was something that no-one before or since has ever been able to fill, not even Alfred, or any of those women you just accused me of cheating on you with… And I thought that perhaps _you_… found that same thing."

"I have the Titans now."

Batman snorted.

"Well, that's rather selfish of you. What about me? I have no-one…"

Robin looked at him boredly; there went the sob-story again.

"That's emotional blackmail…"

Batman suddenly leaned sharply into him, dominating his mouth. For a few moments Robin struggled in his grip – then fell into it, recognizing the pattern and flavor and style of it.

It was like an old pair of jogging pants, or a favorite oversized sweater; comfortable, warm and familiar.

Robin was really getting into it, throwing away his adamant vows of only moments before in favor of gripping at the ears of Batman's cowl and leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

And then Batman broke away from him.

That uncharacteristic smile was back on his face.

"Emotional blackmail?" He massaged Robin's jet black hair. "Whatever it takes…"

Robin moaned, half in irritation and half in pleasure; rubbing his head against Batman's gloved hand like a cat.

"Oh, you know how to break me…" He sniffled and opened his eyes, a half-smile on his own mouth.

"My forte." Batman's hand slipped lower, rubbing Robin's back lovingly. "Please, Dick, let me have this… You're only here for three days. Please let me have you for those – that's _all_ I ask. _Just three days_… allow me to have you… Let me _remember_…"

Another kiss was already in place; one that Robin couldn't resist at all. He reached up, pulling Batman's cowl to down to make him Bruce Wayne again.

Which granted him access to the handsome man's ebony hair.

Bruce had broken him; even though he had vowed that he _wouldn't_.

Bruce was like that.

You _didn't_ refuse him.

Bruce broke away again and Robin nuzzled against his neck.

"Okay, three days," he panted. "And not a moment more."

"Deal." Bruce smattered kisses up his neck and jaw. "You won't regret it…"

He suddenly let Robin go and got up, unfastening his cape as he walked away.

"Let me just check the Bat-signal and surveillance for any activity. If there's nothing I'll get changed and we'll go upstairs…"

"Okay…"

Robin shivered, not sure whether he was nervous, excited or simply cold.

He knew what Bruce meant by "upstairs".

He meant his room. He meant his king-sized bed. He meant everything else that came _after_ that.

He knew he wouldn't regret it.

There had been everything in their relationship.

Love. Lust. Pain. Anger. Despair. Tears. Sorrow. Worry. Guilt.

But never _regret_.

_Never regret—_

There was simply no room for it.

**

* * *

Well, it's my job to do the bottom ANS (RobinRocks) but since I can't even be bothered to start pleading my case today (I wouldn't be much of a defense lawyer…), just… meh…**

**This is the Post-Halloween update of _Wertham's Law_. Hope you all had a good time last night. I went to a concert (Rooster – they're a British rock band), dressed up as Wonder Girl and got a _The Batman_ toy in Burger King.**

**I hate that show… It defiles the genre of _Batman_ (and _Batman_-related, e.g. _Teen Titans_) animation…**

**But it was a good night.**

**Check out my profile for some links to the "highlights" of the _Seduction of the Innocent_ section on Superdickery (mentioned up top). There are five altogether – shouldn't take you a moment.**

**_Then_ tell us we're writing them OOC.**

**Oh, and Narroch06 changed her name to simply Narroch. She should have told you that herself but didn't, so…**

**Blah…**

**- RobinRocks xXx**

**P.S: This is SATIRE. Please don't take it seriously. I'm not going to say it again.**

**P.P.S: I admit that the crazy alliteration somewhere up there (to do with villains) was my doing… Well, you listen to Adam West and how seriously he says those ludicrous things..**


	4. III: Dahlias and Dressing Gowns

Well, _blahblahblah_… not much to say…

Hope you checked out the Superdickery website for evidence of this pairing and all – if not, you can till see these panels that were actually printed in 50s _Batman_ comics by clicking on my nice shiny name up there and then going onto the Superdickery links on my profile…

Nope, I have run out of things to say.

Yay for you.

_Wertham's Law – _III

Dahlias and Dressing-gowns

"Here."

Tying his robe, Bruce focused his attention on the buttons of Robin's white shirt; while the boy stood there, good as gold, for him to fasten them.

"Don't _you_ need to get dressed?" Robin asked him. "Haven't you got to go to work today?"

Bruce nodded vaguely.

"I _own_ Wayne Enterprises. I can go in whenever I like…"

Robin shrugged.

"Touché."

Bruce fastened the last button and stepped back.

"Tuck it in."

Robin obeyed and Bruce handed him the wine-colored sleeveless cricket jumper to go over it. Overall, the style was very 40s – black slacks, white long-sleeved shirt and the knit tank top – but Bruce smiled.

"There. I love that look on you."

Robin blinked up at him.

"No-one in Jump City dresses like this."

"Well, you know everyone in Gotham _does_."

Robin shrugged; it was true. He had never been able to place why Gotham City was like an alternate 1940s, but he had given up wondering. Jump City was so different in comparison; clearer, fresher, newer and brighter.

But Gotham – dank, dark and scum-infested as it was – was like an old glove to him. Fitting and familiar.

The same applied to these clothes. He had always dressed like this in Gotham, and had never looked out of place, because everyone else dressed like this as well.

Perhaps his friends would do a double-take when he went downstairs to breakfast. He didn't care anymore.

Bruce was distractedly combing his hair flat now; flicking out the two little cowlicks at his forehead that he had sported in his "Dick Grayson" daytime guise.

"Your hair is too long," the billionaire said, smoothing it down. "You need it cut."

"It needs to be this length for me to spike it up."

"Ah, I didn't think they were natural. Why do you need to spike it up?"

"Keeps it out of my eyes during a mission."

"Which proves that it's too long," Bruce said smartly. "If it were shorter then you wouldn't need to spike it because it wouldn't be in your eyes."

Robin's reply was extremely undignified – sticking his tongue out.

Bruce sighed wearily.

"I _despair_ of you…"

Robin purred against the quilted chest of his dressing gown, playing him up.

"I enjoyed last night," the boy murmured, laying his little trap.

Bruce hoisted him up around the waist, so that their faces were level.

"Of course." They shared a quick little kiss. "And so did I."

"It was what you wanted."

"And you didn't?"

"I'm only doing this for you," Robin said with a grin.

"Such a martyr," Bruce responded scathingly, putting him down again. "One thing I've noticed is that you haven't grown much. You're a bit small for your age; you need to put on some weight, at least."

"Ooh." Robin's eyes narrowed, half in real irritation and half in a sizzling show. "_That_ was below the belt…"

Bruce smirked.

"I love your puns – allegedly – and _you_ love _my_ teasing…"

"Allegedly." Robin's tone was cool. "As if Cyborg and Beast Boy don't tease me _enough_."

"Yes, they seem like the teasing kind…" Bruce lifted his young lover's chin. "Do you mind if I take your mask off?"

"Yes."

"My honest opinion?"

"What?" Robin asked warily.

"It looks stupid. You aren't in uniform. Take it off."

Robin recoiled from him.

"No. I always wear it."

"I've noticed." Bruce's voice had an icy snap to it. "Even last night—"

"It's none of your business!"

"You're in _my_ house! What if I have a visitor? Uniform or no uniform, they'll know you're Robin. And why would _Robin_ be in Bruce Wayne's house, hmm?"

"Investigating a crime scene?"

"Then you'd be in uniform, wouldn't you?"

Robin was cornered. Every point Bruce made was perfectly valid and he couldn't find a loophole anywhere.

Bruce reached for him again.

"Let me take it off."

"No," Robin whimpered.

"_Dick_!" Bruce was getting annoyed now. "Just let me see your eyes instead of that wretched empty mask!"

He grasped the boy's wrist and pulled him to him roughly.

"_No_…!" The word was turned to a shrill shriek as Bruce gripped a corner of it and _ripped_ it off.

"Adhesive," was all Bruce said, holding the mask up to look at it.

"_Bully_," Robin muttered in reply, rubbing his sore eyes.

"Shut up and let me see them."

Robin grudgingly turned to him, blinking rapidly to get rid of the stinging.

"Oh…" Bruce touched his cheek, smiling. "Just as beautiful as I remember."

Those big blue eyes shone up at him, glittering, although their owner still looked quite irritated.

"That's an opinion that you might want to keep to yourself…"

Bruce shrugged and looked at the clock.

"C'mon, let's go get some breakfast…"

"I'm putting my mask back on."

Bruce smartly crumpled it and threw it over his shoulder, where its owner lost sight of it.

"_No_!"

Bruce grabbed him as he started for the bed and turned him around, pushing towards the bedroom door.

"You look nice and smart now. And what's more…" Bruce smirked at his reflection on his way out of the door. "…You aren't "Robin" now either. Hmm, Dick?"

The boy glowered.

"You're so _manipulative_…"

Bruce grinned.

"I try…"

**TT**

"What manner of bloom is this?" Starfire asked, prodding at the yellow flower – one of many, sprouting from the large Oriental vase in the middle of the dining room table. There were all different colors – pink, orange, blue, yellow, purple, white…

"They are dahlias, Miss Starfire," Alfred told her warmly, placing a plate of hot English muffins on the table next to the waffles. Cyborg and Beast Boy were already digging in with extreme gusto, while Raven was busying herself with choosing which variety of tea she might like to try from the selection the butler had provided her with, a half-finished crossword and a pen on the table beside her.

"Dahlias?" Starfire blinked up at him. "Why this strange name?"

"Ah, I believe they are named after Dahl, the Swedish botanist who discovered them."

"Oh." Starfire smiled. "They are most beautiful. We do not have these flowers on my planet."

"And _we_ don't have _pancakes_ this good at Titans Tower!" Cyborg put in cheerfully, his mouth full.

"Dude, seriously, where did Bruce Wayne _find_ you?" Beast Boy demanded. "You're an awesome cook!"

"My father had worked for Master Bruce's father some good years ago now. I myself served as a spy in the British Secret Service and even partook in some theatre work before I felt that my call of duty had come. I came to work for Thomas and Martha Wayne a little while before their tragic deaths, and have raised Master Bruce since then."

"He didn't put in an ad for you?"

"I'm afraid not, young master."

Beast Boy shook his head.

"Well, dude, you are in the wrong profession. You should _so_ be a famous master chef."

Alfred smiled, putting a glass pitcher of ice-cold orange juice on the table.

"I'm afraid it may be a little too late to be considering a career change now. Besides, I enjoy working here for Master Bruce. A man could not wish for a better and more kindly employer."

"Telling tales _again_, Alfred?"

"Good ones, of course, sir."

The Teen Titans and Alfred all turned towards the doorway on the butler's words; there was Bruce Wayne, still as handsome with his ebony hair sleep-tousled and with a quilted dressing gown over his silk pajamas.

"Morning," Bruce greeted them all brightly. He made his way over to the table, revealing Robin – or Dick – who had been sheltering behind him.

Alfred did not seem in the least bit surprised by the boy's appearance – clothing, hair and blue eyes to boot.

His four team-mates _stared_ at him, speechless.

"_R…Robin_?" Cyborg choked eventually.

Dick offered them a sweet little grin and waved shyly at them, before darting to the table and taking a seat next to Bruce, who was reading the newspaper and pouring himself some coffee from the pot at the same time.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Beast Boy asked incredulously. "Going to a costume party as Urkel?"

"_Ha_," Dick replied dryly. "Everyone in Gotham dresses like this, BB."

"What, there's a uniform?"

Dick rolled his eyes and helped himself to some toast.

"This is the first time we've seen you without your mask," Raven acknowledged.

"I take full responsibility for that," Bruce said cheerfully from behind _The Gotham Gazette_.

Dick raised his head to answer him back and found Starfire in his face instead.

"Oh, they are blue!" She giggled. "They are wondrous, Robin!"

"Uh-huh." Dick pushed her away – she was _waaay_ to close, literally about two centimeters from his face. "Could you sit down, Star?"

Starfire flew back to her seat, her beaming smile unaltered.

He felt a little pang of guilt when he remembered what he and Bruce had shared the night before.

"So…" Beast Boy and Cyborg were both leaning right over the table, staring at him; Raven had gone back to her tea and her crossword.

"…You _are_ gonna dress normal again when we go home, right? And do your hair spiky again? And wear your mask?"

Dick raised his eyebrows.

"'_Normal'_?" He asked coolly. "For Gotham, this _is_ normal."

"Robin, for Gotham, a guy in a _bat costume_ is normal," Cyborg pointed out.

Bruce looked over the top of his newspaper, amused; then disappeared behind it again.

"Oh, you know what we mean. Dressing like someone from some 40s Fred Astaire musical isn't normal in _our_ city," Cyborg went on.

Dick sighed jadedly.

"Yes, I'll be back in uniform, gelled hair and all, when we go home," he replied. "But for now, I would point out that _you_ guys are the ones who look out of place, not me."

Beast Boy looked down at his grey T-shirt and faded baggy jeans and then looked across at Dick's prim 40s-esque attire.

"Yeah, but at least I don't look like I'm selling war bonds…"

Bruce snorted with laughter behind his paper and Beast Boy looked extremely pleased that someone had laughed.

Dick scowled at the pair of them.

"_You_ made me dress like this," he hissed at Bruce.

"I know. But you weren't joking when you said that kid had a sharp tongue…"

"Oh, yeah, he's _real_ humorous…" Raven put in sarcastically, not looking up.

"Would anyone like some French toast?" Alfred asked, coming over to the table with yet another plate.

Cyborg and Beast Boy pounced on the plate as soon as the butler put it down.

"I require some mustard, please!" Starfire said, waving her hand in the air.

Alfred fetched it for her and then watched in both surprise and alarm as she squirted it all over her pancakes.

"Ah, Miss Starfire…?"

"Don't be surprised, Alfred," Dick muttered.

Alfred raised his eyebrows as she began hacking her pancakes apart with her knife – the brutality of the ritual belied by her beauty and physical grace.

Starfire surprised people like that.

"Quite," was all the butler could say. He turned to Bruce, who was immersed in his newspaper.

"Playing hooky again, sir, if I may be so bold?" He asked dryly.

Bruce looked up.

"What? Oh… the robe…" The billionaire shrugged. "Playing tardy more than hooky, Alfred."

"Of course, sir." Alfred topped up his coffee. "And what time were you planning to arrive at Wayne Enterprises?"

"I have a conference with Lex Luthor at 1:00pm, but nothing before."

"Does he _still_ want Wayne Enterprises to join up with LexCorp?" Dick asked in surprise.

"Afraid so." Bruce turned the page. "And I'm still giving him a hard time over it. He's got some great ideas, but all he wants to do is make big guns, and I…"

He trailed off but Dick nodded in understanding.

Bruce didn't like guns. End of.

Period.

"Lex Luthor?" Cyborg repeated. "Isn't he…?"

"Superman's favorite person?" Bruce finished. "Uh-huh." He looked down at the newspaper page again and blinked.

Spread the page and blinked again.

He muttered an expletive to himself and then nudged Dick in the ribs as the others went back to their respective breakfasts.

"And speaking of favorite people, there's _mine_…"

"Hmm?"

Dick looked over at the paper and blinked himself.

"Oh, _that's_ not good…"

Across the double-page spread read:

JOKER STILL AT LARGE.

And there, right in the middle, was that horrible leering grin that both Bruce and Dick – or more precisely, Batman and Robin – knew all too well.

They both looked up, their gazes locking; blue meeting grey.

"_That_," Dick said again, pointing at the page, "is _so_ not good…"

**TT**

"Damn it all!" Batman snapped, exasperated. "I didn't even know he was _out_! He was quiet about it, for once…"

"Didn't Gordon inform you?" Robin asked, standing behind Batman's chair at the mainframe in the BatCave.

"Not a word. This week alone I've been chasing the Scarecrow, the Penguin and Scarface, but not a _word_ about the Joker…"

Batman scowled at the screen; he was on the _Gotham Gazette_ database, scouring through recent articles looking for the date of the one that had announced the escape of the Joker from Arkham Asylum.

So far, they had nothing.

"I'm sorry to drag you into this," Batman muttered. "I asked you to stay for some leisure time, and now _this_…"

Back in his uniform, his hair a crown of ebony spikes again and his mask back in place, Robin smiled and laid a hand on the Dark Knight's shoulder. The handsome man's cowl was down like a hood.

"Putting that clown behind bars comes first."

Batman reached up and gripped his hand.

"There's my boy." He squeezed his hand a little. "You're smart, and you know your priorities."

Robin smiled at the rare praise; Batman was never usually this open.

"Well, _you_ taught me…"

"And now _we're_ going to teach the Joker he should pick his times to escape more carefully," Batman spat in reply, letting go of Robin's hand.

Robin nodded.

"You'd think he'd have learnt by now…"

The door to the BatCave suddenly swung open and Alfred came hurrying halfway down the staircase.

"Master Bruce! Master Dick!" The butler called. "The Bat-signal has been lit!"

Batman looked from Alfred to Robin to the screen.

"Looks like we've as good as found him," he acknowledged, rising from his leather chair. "I might've known he wouldn't keep a low profile for long…"

"Shall I get the Titans?" Robin asked, pointing upwards.

Batman seemed to consider it for a while.

"No," he decided finally. "They were invited here for a break. We'll handle this ourselves…"

Robin nodded, almost relieved.

"Okay…"

Batman nodded across the cave.

"Batmobile."

Robin nodded again, his heart beginning to race; the thrill of the chase, carried on leather wings, beginning to course through him as it had always done when he was at Batman's side on these cold, dark Gotham nights.

He took off across the BatCave towards the Batmobile; but Batman was not at his heels.

"Sir?" Alfred's tone was tentative as he reached the bottom of the staircase.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" Batman murmured, more to himself; his gaze on Robin as the boy ran across the BatCave with an undeniable acrobatic grace.

"He has certainly grown up." Alfred looked at his employer and friend with concern. "I know that his leaving hurt you, Master Bruce. That is why you should not allow yourself to become attached all over again."

"He won't stay." Batman sighed. "He has his duties elsewhere. We have only two more days with him after this, Alfred."

"He will visit again, sir."

"I know that, but…" Batman shook his head. "Two whole years, Alfred. And now that we have him back, that… _clown_ decides to break out and cut into our time with him. You know that the Joker is never an easy to one to apprehend."

"Quite, sir."

"You don't think there is a way to convince him to stay?"

"As you said, Master Bruce, he has his duties elsewhere. He has a nobility that you have taught unto him – and he knows that you do not truly need him. His team-mates do. He knows where he is needed and will stay, even if it is not where he would desire to be."

Batman – Bruce – smiled.

"You're a true wiseman, Alfred."

Alfred shot him a wan smile.

"I should hope so, sir, after all these years."

"Well…" Batman pulled up his cowl, transforming truly into the Dark Avenger that he was. "…The Joker is going to be very sorry he broke out now…"

"It's personal?" Alfred asked, grimly amused.

Batman smirked; and the effect was truly frightening.

"It's personal."

* * *

Oh, I'm at the point where I don't even _care_ if people like this or not, and Narroch is of the same opinion… Not that anyone has flamed or anything – and yes, we _are_ appreciative of the reviews. Some of you are very kind indeed, and we're glad you're enjoying it.

Even so, it doesn't look as though _Wertham's Law_ is going to hit the same nerve _Small Print_ did…

Just _what_ is it you guys love about that fic, anyway?

O.o

Actually, don't answer that…

Oh, and the 40s stuff up there - well, it's a reference to _Batman: TAS_. I've never understood why they have a 40s dress sense, 40s cars, black and white photos/TV and swing music, yet Bruce has a high-tech Bat-computer in his basement...

RobinRocks and Narroch xXx


	5. IV: Joking the Jury

Narroch here to introduce my favorite chapter of Wertham's Law…

It's the Joker that does it. I love that psycho clown. Yes, he is in this chapter, yes, there will be cheesy puns, yes there will be action, drama, and romance woven into a delectable plot that you can eat like its Turkey day all over again!

Ok, well, no, you can't eat our fanfic. I must apologize to you all for that. Thanksgiving has been on the brain (and the leftovers in my tummy)

(Poor Robinrocks didn't get Thanksgiving in England! Awww…Everyone commiserate now!)

I hope everyone visited Superdickery like we told you to…It is now on RobinRocks' profile for anyone wanting a quick link.

Well, not much else to say. Enjoy the action packed chapter and remember to leave a review! Thanks!

_Wertham's Law – _IV

Joking the Jury

A filmy wisp of smoke curled out from Harvey Bullock's chapped lips and was quickly whipped away by the biting wind that always was present in Gotham; especially on the rooftops. He slumped forward a bit, took another deep drag from his cigarette and then spoke with the cheap thin smoke lacing his words.

"Didja even know that wacko was out, Commish?"

Commissioner Gordon glanced over at the detective, who was leaning against the Bat-signal's beacon with the cigarette now loosely dangling from his mouth.

"I wasn't informed," Gordon replied gruffly, turning back to glare edgily into the inky black sky that was pierced by the lance of light. "I get the Penguin, the Scarecrow and Scarface all dumped on my watch, not to mention Clayface and Poison Ivy the week before, but not a word about the Joker."

"Then how come the papers know about it?"

Gordon tugged at his peppered grey hair in frustration.

"I don't know! I've got half the force out there but I think _Batman_ might be the only one who can stop him…"

"Any idea what the Joker's up to?"

"He hasn't made any demands yet, but…" Gordon trailed off when he realized that it hadn't been Bullock who had asked the question.

Both members of the GCPD whipped around to find Batman looming atop the Bat-signal beacon (which Bullock sharply backed away from upon this discovery, the cigarette dropping forgotten from his slack mouth), with Robin perched slightly behind him.

"Batman!"

"Jim." Batman leapt nimbly down from the beacon, Robin replicating the movements as though he really was his partner's shadow, strung along on a piece of invisible elastic. "You said the Joker hadn't made any demands?"

"Not yet." Commissioner Gordon slipped his hands in the pockets of his well worn grey trench coat. "Actually, he hasn't done _anything_—"

"Hey, Commish, he's got the kid with him!" Bullock suddenly interrupted, pointing a meaty finger at Robin.

All three – Gordon, Batman and Robin – turned to look at him coldly.

"What?" Bullock shrugged his broad shoulders and stuffed his finger back into his coat to fish out a fresh cigarette. "Haven't seen him for a while, is all."

"Jim. The Joker." Batman sounded impatient as he turned back to the commissioner.

"We've had reports of his hot air balloon flying around over Lower Gotham in the last hour," Gordon replied. "I've sent out as many officers as I can afford, but none of them have radioed back in with anything yet. Doesn't mean he's not out there, though. We've had more than one call from eye witnesses, so I don't think it's a prank."

"Lower Gotham. Got it."

"What if he's not still there?" Bullock put in.

"That balloon of his doesn't go very fast," Batman replied tetchily. "He couldn't have gotten very far in an hour."

He turned to go, one hand at Robin's shoulders.

"Good luck, Batman!" Gordon called to him.

Batman looked over his shoulder and nodded.

"Thanks, Jim."

Pulling out his grappling hook, Batman swooped off into the bleak cold night, Robin not far behind him.

Gordon and Bullock watched them fly away, the latter lighting up his new cigarette.

"So," Bullock said, snapping his lighter shut with a decisive click. "The kid. Don't act like you're not surprised to see him."

Gordon shrugged.

"Last I heard, he was with the "Teen Titans" in another city. Guess he came back."

"Perfect timing."

"The Joker?"

"Nah." Bullock dragged on his cigarette. "Me an' some of the boys at the station were just talking about him the other day on our coffee break."

"Oh, yes?"

"Uh-huh. We were having a bit of a discussion. See, some of the guys reckon that Bats used to fuck the kid. Some of us disagree, of course… Bats would never do a thing like that, huh?"

Bullock's tone was sardonic.

Commissioner Gordon rolled his eyes.

"Remind me to shorten your coffee breaks…"

**TT**

"No sign," Batman said with a heavy sigh, putting his binoculars away. "We'll have to split up."

Robin nodded, biting his lip.

"You're okay with that?"

"Yeah, it's cool."

Batman nodded grimly.

"Alright, you take the east side. I'll take the west. Keep in touch, and if you find anything, call me immediately."

Robin nodded again; and then they shared another swift little stolen kiss.

"Be safe," Batman whispered, drawing away.

And then he was gone, a flaring cape flitting away over the rooftops as though he was really flying.

Robin turned away and went in the other direction, leaping and running from rooftop to rooftop as though he had suddenly sprouted wings as well; each leap carrying him further and further as he built up speed. The friendly ache of his muscles from the aerobic reconnaissance was a welcome sensation, along with the speed and freefalling and general surge he felt when sprinting through Gotham's lofty architecture. It was as though someone had suddenly released him from a cage and let him free again; which was ironic, because he actually had _more_ freedom as a Teen Titan.

Maybe it was simply being back in Gotham – dull, dark, skanky Gotham – that was giving him this rush.

Or…

…maybe it was being back with Batman. With _Bruce_.

His sensual train of thought was suddenly derailed as he paused, hearing something above and behind him.

A sort of… rushing, whirring sound, like…

Looking up, standing right at the edge of a rooftop, he found the Joker quite easily; there went the hot air balloon, bright red and yellow in colour, with a huge smiling face painted on the side and neon flashing lights all over it. There was a lit sign on it that read;

"LAUGH IT UP, GOTHAM!"

It was flying so low that it was creating a wind that rippled Robin's cape and hair. He went to his belt to pull out his communicator to contact Batman and tell him that he found the Joker—

But his hand met nothing. All of his weapons were still in place, but his communicator was gone.

But where had… Had he dropped it? Had it simply not been in his belt when he had left the BatCave? Had he not even taken it to Gotham at all?

"_Great_!" He exploded. He had no way of reaching Batman, and he wouldn't know where to find him so he couldn't go back and get him; but he couldn't really just let the Joker go either.

He sighed and pulled out his grappling hook. He didn't like the prospect of facing the Joker alone, but what other choice did he have?

Firing it upwards, it easily got a hold on the low-flying aircraft and Robin was catapulted upwards; he caught onto the metal frame at the back and hoisted himself up, disentangling his grappling hook and replacing it in his belt. From there, despite the slight wind from the motion of the balloon, it was easy for the Boy Wonder to work his way along the outside of it and get to the door of the closed-off cabin underneath. He kicked it in and stormed the place, whipping out his Bo staff and extending it with a twirl.

The Joker, who was at the wheel of the ship, turned towards the door in puzzlement.

For a few moments, he looked genuinely surprised to see the boy – he obviously hadn't been expecting _him_, to say the least.

And then that wide grin spread across his face.

"Well, how rude!" He exclaimed gleefully. "Old Bat-guano doesn't even call to say he's sending his understudy to fill in for him! And here I was, expecting the man himself…"

"Show's over, Joker," Robin spat, advancing on him. "You _know_ Batman's going to come bursting in any minute, so it's not worth you trying a thing."

The Joker stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Yes, that _would_ be just like him… Although, thanks for the tip-off, kid. Any idea what direction he'll be coming?"

Robin shrugged.

"Not sure, but I know his _fist_ will be coming _straight_ at your face."

The Joker screeched with laughter.

"Comedy Central, as usual," he gasped. Then the laughter abruptly died and the Joker's expression darkened. "And we can't have you _stealing the show now, can we_…"

If the hired muscle behind him had hoped to be sneaking up on him, both their footfalls (heavy, clumsy) and their shadows falling across the floor betrayed them.

Robin spun, taking one out with a roundhouse kick, and downing the second with a leap that he turned into a rapid dragonfly kick to the head. A third grabbed him by the back of his cape but he kept moving, dipping behind the huge man with the grace of a dancer rather than a fighter; twisting his arm upwards and then slamming his palm into the elbow, effectively snapping it. The man howled in pain and staggered away even as Robin laid into the fourth and final lackey with his staff; and again, the grace with which he twirled it would be more commonly associated with even a cheerleader given a baton rather than a warrior.

If Batman had trained him to be a thing of destruction; then he had trained him to be a thing of beauty as well.

Robin used the whirling motion of his staff to retract it and put it away in one swift movement; one graceful backflip placed him at the Joker's feet. Robin stood, slightly hunched over, his dark head bowed, his cape sliding over his shoulders the way that Batman's fell.

"Oh, I don't know, Joker," he said, his voice low, almost purring; as the white-faced madman stared at him all over again. "You're a pretty funny guy yourself…"

"I am?" The Joker was genuinely floored by Robin's 'praise'.

"Yeah, it's just…" Robin lifted his head and something truly malicious flashed beyond the white of his mask. "…You always forget the _punchline_!"

On that last accentuated word his fist was nothing more than a green blur as it sailed right at the Joker's jaw; the impact was such that it snapped the villain's head back. A snap-kick followed, catching the Joker's unguarded gut and sending him to the wooden floor of the air balloon.

Pleased with himself, Robin recoiled his leg and straightened his stance.

The Joker sat up with effort and Robin saw the blood dribbling down his chin – it did, in fact, look as though his entire crimson mouth was sliding off his face.

"Now, now, bird-brain," the Joker mocked. "You should expect someone who names himself after a playing card to have a few extra Aces up his sleeve…"

Robin blinked.

"What?"

He didn't get to interrogate the Joker any further, nor wipe that bloody sneer off his face; as something violently cracked him across the back of the head and he crumpled, his rose-tinted, bat-infested little world going black.

The Joker grinned as he watched the brightly-clad boy fall face-first to the wooden floor, then looked up.

"Guess it _is_ worth investing in a sidekick!" He exclaimed. "Gosh, that Batman really knows how to stay ahead of the market!"

He smirked as the shapely figure of his accomplice stepped forwards, twirling the oversized mallet in her hands. Dressed in her tight, glowing red-and-black jester-style costume with stark black and white makeup on her face, Harley Quinn was the perfect sidekick for him.

Hell, she didn't even mind getting kicked to the curb.

"You did a great job, Harl," the Joker drawled.

She grinned.

"No problem, Mistah J," she replied, her Brooklyn accent as prominent as ever.

"No, Harley, it's not a problem indeed," the Joker agreed, getting to his feet. He hauled the unconscious Boy Wonder to his knees by his cape. "In fact, Bird-boy, as usual, walked in at just the right time."

"11:05pm?" Harley asked, looking at her watch.

"No." The Joker grinned. "The time when we can effectively use him… as _bat-bait_!"

**TT**

He stood alone atop another of those tall skyscrapers – gothic design, concrete gargoyles, as though a spike from the heights Hell that had ruptured through the pavement and kept on going up and up. It was ugly; with black glass windows that looked odd and modern compared the design of the rest of the building. The gargoyles that perched on the corners of the roof were crouching, leering, and clumsily carved – not skillfully and beautifully macabre as they _should_ be.

These modern buildings. He disliked them.

But they were by far taller than Gotham's more dated architecture; and from up here he got a much better view of his city.

Not that there was anything to _see_ right about now.

There was little beeping sound and Batman flipped out his own communication device from his utility belt.

"Robin?"

"I'm afraid I'm a little too old to be wearing green tights, Batman," came James Gordon's voice over the speaker.

"Jim. I apologize."

Wishful thinking, maybe? Batman shook his head and focused.

"Actually, I thought it was ESP, Batman."

"What?" Batman was mildly alarmed by that statement. "What do you-?"

"We have the Joker on the police screen right now," Gordon interrupted, sounding troubled. "He's demanding to talk to you. Says he has something of yours. Something dressed in red, yellow and green…"

"_Robin_!" Something deep inside the Dark Knight began to boil and bubble. "Put him on. I'll talk to him."

"Alright, I'm switching over the feed. You won't be able to see him, but you'll hear him just fine."

"Good," Batman growled.

There was a bit of static, then silence. And then;

"_Bats_!"

That shrill nasally voice pierced and wormed through Batman more than ever.

"Joker," he spat.

The madman giggled happily.

"Oh, I'm flattered! You remember me after all this time?"

"Where is Robin?" Batman snapped, ignoring the Joker's "formalities".

"Boy, you sure cut to the chase, bats-for-brains," the Joker grumbled amiably. "Yes, I have your little Boy-toy-Wonder with me. I'm insulted that you sent him instead of coming yourself. Do I mean that little to you?"

"I…" Batman gripped the comm. Damn that boy; he had gone after the Joker himself, even though he had told him to make contact before going in.

Well, he could – and would – punish him later.

Getting him back alive _to_ punish him was the priority right now.

"What do you want?" Batman barbed icily, composing himself again.

"Twenty million smackers," the Joker said promptly.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Batman snapped. "Where do you expect me to-?"

"Listen, Bat-boogers!" The Joker interrupted, the edges of his patience fraying just enough to show the ugly face of blackmail from a desperate villain. "I have your darling birdie here with me right now. He's powerless to stop me gutting him like a fish. You want him back alive so you can… I don't know, do _whatever_ you do with him… you'd better find some way of coughing up the dough."

Batman grimaced.

"Where and when?" He asked through gritted teeth.

"The old fairground on the Lower East Side. You have an hour." The Joker uttered another weird little giggle. "We'll be in touch!"

The communication was abruptly cut off, ending the transmission. After another few moments Gordon was back.

"Did you talk to him?"

"Yes."

"What does he want?"

"Twenty million dollars," Batman hissed.

Gordon gasped.

"What on earth… where does he expect…?" He flustered over the line.

Batman grimly bit his lip. As it happened, acquiring twenty million dollars wouldn't be a problem for him at all; he would simply go home now and write out a check. Sign it 'Bruce Wayne', and when the Joker asked, he would simply say that the "kindly billionaire" had been distraught by the idea of the poor Boy Wonder being "gutted like a fish" and had offered the twenty million out of his own account.

But still, it was an _extortionate_ amount.

But it was for Robin; for Dick. Wealth was worth nothing in the face of the boy's life being threatened. Batman realized that he would gladly give _two hundred_ million dollars; hell, _twenty billion_ dollars if it meant he could have him back unharmed.

"Batman, what are we going to do?" Gordon asked. "We can't get that kind of money. The GCPD doesn't have it at its disposal, and you know Mayor Hill won't be persuaded to take it from the city funds, especially as the Joker is only holding one person to ransom…"

"One person is one person too _many_," Batman growled. "And it's _Robin_. He might not be important to Mayor Hill, but he's important to _me_." He sighed. "I can get the money, Jim…"

"How?"

"Just a friend of mine," Batman muttered vaguely.

"And what about us?"

"He's at the old fairground at the Lower East Side."

"Right. I'll take a squad and get on it."

Batman heard the commissioner calling off-speaker to Bullock and Montoya.

"Jim, don't do anything until I get there with the check. We can't risk him—"

"No doubt you'll beat us to it, Batman," Gordon sighed. "It's alright, we'll surround the place so that he can't escape. We can always take the check off him and rip it up."

"Don't do anything to endanger Robin."

"We won't."

"Good." Batman turned off the comm. and replaced it in his belt; then turned and began racing across the rooftops again to get to the Batmobile.

This was, as Alfred had said, _personal_.

The Joker had _really_ gone too far this time.

**TT**

"He'll never give you that money!" Robin spat up at the Joker, struggling uselessly against his bonds of duct tape.

"He will if he wants to see you alive again," the Joker replied coolly.

"Where do you expect him to get it from?" Robin burst out.

The Joker shrugged.

"Don't care. That's my demand. I am curious…" The Joker bent over the boy, grinning leeringly. "…Are you _worth_ that much money to him?"

Robin didn't know how to answer that one. _Would_ Bruce bring the money? He certainly had it at his disposal, but… if given twenty million dollars, the Joker would use it to buy weapons and other diabolical toys to aid his flamboyant crimes. Surely Batman knew that?

Then, if he had any sense, he _wouldn't_ bring the money.

But… Bruce loved him. Really and truly _loved_ him. Maybe that would cloud his rationality – and he would bring the money simply so that he could have Robin back.

As it happened, Robin didn't really think it mattered – he was pretty certain he was going to die either way.

Why?

They were in the dilapidated _Tunnel of Love_, which the Joker had somehow gotten running again. How perfectly ironic – but the satire of the situation was lost on Robin as he was beginning to feel the first silent pangs of panic reverberating through him.

He was bound in duct tape, his arms painfully twisted behind his back with his wrists taped together, and then his arms in turn pinned to his sides. His legs were free but that didn't do him much good because he was too afraid to move them – there was a bomb placed in between them. He was lying on his back like that – bound, his legs apart with the bomb wedged between them – in one of the ride boats on the slowly moving river through the _Tunnel of Love_.

The Joker was standing on one of the displays at either side of the ride – the sickening fake plastic exhibits of too-pink cherubs, faded cloth red roses that had seen better days and clear colored plastic hearts dangling on threads. He looked horribly out of place, as did Harley Quinn; he was standing there, one foot on the boat to keep it from moving, the other on the display.

"We goin' yet, puddin'?" Harley asked, batting her eyelashes at the Joker.

"Not just yet, Harl," the Joker replied jovially, patting her on the head. "We have to make sure bat-brat is plenty comfortable. This place, after all, will be his tomb." He grinned. "How fitting."

He crouched down next to the boat.

"It's something we guys discuss when we're locked up in Arkham," he explained, giggling. "You know, the usual crowd… Dent, Cobblepot, Nygma, Isley, Crane…"

"The usual bunch of losers," Robin agreed nonchalantly.

The Joker's face only twisted into a grin more macabre.

"You're in no position to be making snide jokes," he pointed out gleefully. He considered Robin's position carefully. "In fact, right now, _in that position_, you look like a _whore_."

Another weird giggle as Robin felt his face flush pink.

"Which is _ironic_, because that's _just_ what I was about to bring up!" He leaned into Robin and spoke in a confidential whisper. "C'mon, kid, between you and me… tell us we're right. He _does_ screw you…"

Fighting the blush down was the hardest battle Robin had ever brawled with, but somehow he managed it.

"No, he doesn't," he replied coolly and calmly. "That's ridiculous."

As if he would ever admit the truth to _the Joker_.

The Joker's grin didn't falter.

"Okay, well, you can take the secret to the grave with you if you want." He raised his green eyebrows. "I guarantee you _will_ be…"

Robin offered another few pithy struggles that the Joker only laughed at.

"I guess it's kinda a raw deal," he admitted. "Even if Bat-guano _does_ bring the moolah, which I think he will, he still won't be getting his half of the deal." He pointed along the dark tunnel. "I've got a few "friends" of mine down there now working on rigging up the darling cherubs on this _sickening_ ride – we've counted twelve of them, one for each month of the year. They're putting wires underneath the surface of the river, and every time your little love boat sails gaily over one, it brings the bomb count down a notch. When you pass the twelfth cherub – dear December – it's _ka-boom!_ time for you, bird-boy!" He allowed himself another screeching laugh. "Your little boy parts, not to mention the _rest_ of you and half of this fairground will be going sky-high."

He leaned in again.

"But here's the _real_ killer," he whispered, cupping one hand to his mouth as though he didn't want anyone but Robin to hear what he was going to say. "If Bat-dope _does_ come swooping in right at the last minute and gets to you in time… he'll try to disconnect the bomb. And guess what?"

The sinister laughing started up again, and Robin was truly frightened by it.

When he was with Batman, it didn't scare him nearly so much.

"…It can't be disconnected!" The Joker squealed, slapping his thigh as though telling a hugely funny joke. Well, to the Joker, that's what it _was_. "As soon as he cuts _any_ of the wires, it'll blow, and send _both_ of you to Batty Heaven!"

Robin grimaced.

"And you think I won't _tell_ him that?"

"Nope!" The Joker pulled out the duct tape again and slapped it over Robin's mouth, cutting it and then smoothing it down with his hand to make sure it was firmly stuck. "I don't think you'll be telling _anyone anything_."

Robin voiced a few enraged muffles, shaking his head violently, but he was effectively gagged.

Harley Quinn made herself noticed as she grasped hold of the Joker and the pair of them clutched at each other, choking and shaking with laughter.

"Any… last words?" The Joked gasped out.

Robin tried to voice some kind of furious retort, but it was lost to the duct tape over his mouth.

"Guess not, Mistah J," Harley answered for him. She leaned against the Joker's chest. "Let's make some tracks. We gotta wait about for Bats to show up with that moolah, right?"

"That's right, my little love-cherub," the Joker crooned, tapping his white nose. He put his arm around her shoulders and led her away, kicking the boat away and starting its final valediction. "Great thing about you is you aren't the exploding kind…"

He looked over his shoulder at the retreating boat, watching the Boy Wonder struggle as much as he dared.

"Now aren't I good to you?" He called to the boy. "I've given you a whole _year_ to live!"

With another screech of laughter, he and Harley Quinn were gone.

Leaving Robin alone to freak out about his cruel, ironic fate.

Death by cherubs in a _Tunnel of Love_.

That kind of death was _so_ not in.

**TT**

Freefalling, his scalloped cape flowing out behind his like real wings, Batman landed right in the middle of the fairground and rolled, coming into a low, ready crouch. He paused, using the shadows of the various abandoned rides to cloak himself; but it eventually became apparent that this was not a trap. No one shot at him; no grenades or petrol bombs were lobbed in his direction, no laughing gas pumped into the abandoned fairgrounds.

Checking once more that the check was neatly folded in a pouch of his utility belt, Batman straightened up and looked around.

Now, where would-?

His sharp eye caught the _House of Fun_ – complete with a huge leering clown's face on the front – and broke into a run towards it.

The Joker.

He was too damn _obvious_.

**TT**

Trying to breathe calmly, Robin counted the third cherub.

March.

Well, he had never liked March much anyway…

He had worked his foot up and was trying to slowly but surely edge the bomb away from him. He knew it wouldn't help much even if he _could_ get it away from him, but it was a little bit of a comfort.

It wasn't working. He was too scared to kick it too hard in case it went off but his feeble little taps weren't doing any good either.

Some five minutes later, he gave up.

There went April.

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, he tried not to let the hot tears he could feel forming in them escape.

One got away and slid down his face.

And there went May.

**TT**

Batman frustratedly kicked an inflatable clown aside, the impact bursting it.

The _House of Fun_ was utterly empty.

Batman was truly beginning to panic now. He had never really been in a situation like this – where he had believed that Robin might _truly_ be taken from him.

He leaned against the wall in absolute despair. He couldn't have very long left – and where was the Joker? Why hadn't he shown up to get his money?

Was this all one big set-up after all?

Was Robin already…?

He tugged at the ears of his cowl in frustration and fear.

And then his comm. went off.

His heart racing, Batman yanked it out and flipped it on.

"Robin?" He asked, his voice near pleading.

"Ooh, not quite!" The Joker screeched down the line. "But you _do_ get this lovely watch and brand new tumble dryer!"

"Where is he, clown?" Batman spat.

The Joker uttered a coy giggled.

"Ah, that would spoil all the fun-"

"_Where is he_?" Batman yelled angrily.

"Do you have my money?"

"Yes, I have your stinking money!" Batman snapped. "But you aren't getting a _cent_ until I have him back!"

"Yes, your beloved birdie," the Joker murmured. "I'll be down now to collect, in the middle of the fairground."

"Bring Robin with you."

"Can't." The Joker blew a raspberry down the line. "He's all tied up right now. Meantime, let's talk money. I'm going to start Christmas shopping with it, I think. Christmas always seems to come around so _quick_, don't it? I think-"

Batman crushed the comm. device in his hand; both angry and enlightened at once.

The Joker, being the Joker, had just given himself away.

"Beloved" birdie. He's "all tied up" right now. "Christmas" comes so "quick".

_Tunnel of Love_. Last cherub – December.

Batman took off, throwing himself out of one of the windows of the _House of Fun_ and tumbling to the ground below, landing on his feet and simply sprinting flat out across the fairground towards the _Tunnel of Love_.

Then he had a better idea.

He allowed himself a grim, grim smile.

How ironic.

_Perfect_.

**TT**

"Well, really!"

The Joker sounded outraged as he held out his own communication device, listening to the buzz of the dead line on the other end.

"How rude! Some people have _no_ manners these days!"

He tossed the comm. in the air and deftly caught it again.

"But I think Bat-guano got the hint. He should be racing over there to save bird-brain right now…"

"Wait, you _wanted_ him to figure out where Bird-boy is?" Harley asked incredulously.

"Of _course_, love-muffin," the Joker replied, pinching her cheek so hard that he hurt her; she yelped and clapped a hand to her face. "Why just kill the Boy Blunder when Batsy could be blown to the high heavens trying to save him? Kill two birds with one stone, that's what I always say. Or, in this case, a bat and a bird…"

Harley shrugged.

"Ya know he could just tell Bats that the thing's rigged. Batman won't just leave him with his mouth taped up."

"Ah, but if I know Batman, he'll attempt to diffuse the bomb first before he starts laying into his Boy Wonder for getting caught."

The Joker giggled gleefully.

"What if he has the money on him?"

"I…" The Joker trailed off, as did his laughter.

"Ohh…" He kicked a rusted can in anger. "…For the love of _Chaplin_!" He grabbed her wrist and hauled her with him.

"Where we goin'?"

"After him!" The Joker snapped. "My money!"

"Uh-uh!" Harley pulled her wrist back. "That place is gonna blow any minute now!"

"Fine…" The Joker whirled around, smacking her away. She let out a strangled shriek and collapsed, knocked out cold.

He dropped the comm. in disdain – he had hit her on the temple with it – and broke into a run from their hiding place across the fairground.

Batman and Robin could go sky-high. He didn't have a problem with that at all.

But his twenty million bucks as well—

Now that was something he _did_ have a problem with.

**TT**

November.

Robin desperately tugged at the bonds at his wrists, tears now running steadily down his face.

He was going to die. He was really going to die.

He had about five minutes to live.

There was no point in struggling now. Even if he did suddenly miraculously manage to break his bonds, he would never be able to run fast enough to get away from the blast…

He blinked, hearing a sudden _roaring_ sound somewhere beyond—

The Batmobile smashed through the side of the tunnel and came to a sudden lurching halt right in the middle of the river, blocking the boat's way. Robin winced as the boat hit it and he in turn hit his head against the boat.

The opaque glass bubble of the Batmobile slid back and Batman sprang out, landing in the boat and nearly overturning it.

He saw Robin.

He saw Robin nodding frantically behind him, his eyes wide.

And, looking behind him, he saw the bomb.

And saw the countdown.

…9…

…8…

…7…

He didn't have time to diffuse it. Batman grabbed Robin under one arm and leapt headlong back into the Batmobile, unceremoniously throwing the boy into the passenger seat and slamming down the bubble again. The engine revved and roared and the Batmobile went exploding through the other side of the tunnel and out into the fairground, where it screeched across the dry ground as fast as it could go, away from the doomed _Tunnel of Love_.

The bomb detonated when they weren't even twenty yards from it; the car was armored, but it still shuddered even so as the roaring tremor spread across the ground and everything exploded outwards and upwards – plastic, stone, twisted metal, charred wood, all within an entire tsunami of stagnant water that went storming over the Batmobile's surface, tearing the paintjob to pieces, and then washed over half of the fairground and settled like the sea on the shore.

Batman, who had ducked low over Robin even though they were protected by the car, only lifted his head when all of the scraping and roaring had stopped. He cautiously sat up and then clicked the bubble (that was now rather worse for wear) back, leaping out of the car to look around. He landed with a splash and looked down – the water all over the ground had bits of burnt plastic cherubs and roses swimming in it like confetti.

He looked over at the _Tunnel of Love_ – or what was _left_ of it, anyway. There was nothing more than a blackened crater refilling with swill water, the ground around the huge hole was smoking in defeat. Otherwise, the rest of the ride was scattered across the fairground. He realized that the bomb must have had a weak charge – nothing but the _Tunnel of Love_ had exploded.

He flipped on his back-up comm. system, built into the wrist of his left glove.

"Jim?"

"Batman!" Commissioner Gordon sounded both relieved and anxious. "Are you okay? Did you get Robin? We saw the explosion-"

"We're both fine." Batman looked over at the Boy Wonder, who was still bound – and was looking a bit dazed. "Everything's fine."

"The money?"

"The Joker didn't come to collect."

"It's safe to storm the place now?"

"Yes."

"Good work, Batman. We'll be down to collect that clown now."

"Thanks, Jim."

Batman flipped off the comm. as he heard Robin's muffled protests from behind him. He turned to him, snapping out a sharpened batarang and beginning to cut the duct tape at his arms and wrists.

"You should have called me," Batman said icily.

Robin tried to say something but the tape was still at his mouth – instead he gestured wildly with his now free hands.

Batman ignored him, picking him up around the ribcage and lifting him out of the car, placing him down again.

"You're alright, anyway?"

Robin nodded and tugged at the tape over his mouth, finding that it was very sticky and tough to remove.

"Here. Hold still." Batman took hold of the corner of it and Robin flinched in anticipation; the Dark Knight ripped it off with one sharp movement.

"_Aahhh_…" Robin gritted his teeth for a moment or two, then looked up.

"Thanks, I think…"

He squirmed under Batman's icy unflinching gaze; the Dark Knight was _not_ pleased with him.

"I tried to call," Robin explained pleadingly. "I can't find my communicator. It's not in my belt."

"You should have waited."

"I couldn't just let him go-"

"You might as well have!" Batman snapped. "Look what happened! You could have _died_!"

Batman turned his back on him, his cape sweeping behind him and continuing to move long after he had stopped.

"So I was supposed to stand there and just let him-?" Robin started angrily.

"You were _supposed_ to _call_ me!" Batman interrupted furiously.

"I _couldn't_ call you!" Robin burst out exasperatedly. "My comm. is gone! I was just doing exactly what _you_ would have done!"

Silence.

"Yeah, well…" Batman looked over his broad shoulder at the defiant Boy Wonder. "…_I'm_ an idiot…"

He turned back to the boy.

"I was… so… _scared_ that I was going to… _lose_ you…"

Robin smiled weakly.

"You almost did…"

As if on cue – to clear the air between them – the heavens finally opened with unreal rapidity and fervor as they had been threatening to do for two days now, adding to the small lake that was already spread across the fairground.

Without even checking to see if anyone was around the way he usually did, Batman picked Robin up around the waist again and their mouths came together as explosively as lightning to metal. Robin's arms went tightly around the Dark Knight's neck as though he would never let him go again and they stayed liked that for what seemed like an eternity, their lips locked, the rain pelting down on them both from a black starless sky.

And when they finally broke, Batman held him to him still, and Robin's arms stayed around Batman's neck, and—

"Aha! I knew it!"

Robin felt his blood turn to ice.

_The Joker…_

They both turned their heads to find the white-faced madman limping towards them, looking most certainly worse for wear.

His purple suit was torn and singed and he was bleeding from several places.

He obviously hadn't had a Batmobile to hide in during the explosion.

But despite his battered physical condition, that horrible crimson grin was still plastered on his pasty face.

"_I knew it!_" The Joker screeched, stopping a little way off and pointing at them. "You _do_ fuck him, Bats! I freaking _knew_ it all along! Why _else_ would you have a little boy in shorts tagging after you all the time? He's hardly an asset – all he does is get kidnapped so that _you_ have to save him! He's more useful to us _villains_ that he is to you!"

They were hurtful comments, but they were not what made Robin seize up in Batman's grip.

_It was the fact that Joker had seen them_.

They had finally been caught. What now? Would he tell—?

Batman smiled. And then he laughed, holding Robin to him with one hand.

Robin looked at him wildly. Why on earth did Batman find this _funny_? Surely the Joker would—

"Ooh, _queers_!" The Joker shrieked hysterically. "I am going to tell _everyone_!"

But Batman's smile didn't falter. He didn't flinch.

He only laughed, holding the stiff quivering Robin to his chest – the boy's eyes were wide with fright, his jet black hair plastered to his head with the rain.

"Joker," Batman said calmly, "you're an utter _madman_. No-one will believe you. _No-one at all._"

The Joker's laughter slowly died.

He stopped.

And then he burst out into more hysterical shrieks.

"We'll see, Bats! I _knew_ that boy was nothing more than…"

He trailed off as he saw Batman extricate from his utility belt a rectangle of white paper. His grin died as he saw Batman wave that paper at him.

And then he gripped his wet green hair and _screamed_ as Batman deftly tore the check in two with one flick of his strong hand.

The two pieces fluttered to the wet ground, where Batman stomped on them.

"Guess we can cancel that check, huh?"

"_No_!" The Joker squealed. "My money!" He looked up and now his smile was truly gone. "I'll have you for this, Bats! I'll tell _everyone_ about your little love-affair with your Boy-toy-Wonder and have you slammed up for child abuse and rape!"

Batman smiled icily and gave a little nod.

The reason for both of those actions did not become clear until the Joker suddenly let out a yelp and keeled over, out cold.

A very battered Harley Quinn staggered into view behind him, wielding the burnt smiling cherub head she had decked him with.

"Take that, puddin'," she muttered before collapsing on top of him.

Batman put Robin down as the flashing red and blue lights and sirens made themselves known and four GCPD cars came screeching and skidding into the fairground. Harvey Bullock was the first out, flanked by two officers carrying handcuffs for the Joker and Harley Quinn.

"Shall we make ourselves scarce?" Batman asked in a low voice.

Robin nodded, wiping his hair out of his eyes.

"Only if I can say it."

Batman sighed and rolled his eyes.

"If you must."

Robin grinned.

"Love hurts."

* * *

Well, it's all fun… and you just got some action, soooo… you can't whine…

Like, please review and all… we feel so lonely…

_Small Print is_ so cruel, yet so much more popular… What's up with that? O.o

Anyway, blah…

RobinRocks and Narroch06 xXx


	6. V: Of Bats and Birdies

**Well, here we are. Chapter 5 of 6 and stuff… We haven't updated since like, November, or something…**

**Please forgive the increasingly silly chapter titles – I, RobinRocks, take full responsibility for them. The idea was to have them all alliterative to mirror Adam West's portrayal of Batman in the 60s TV series. Kudos to the guy and all for making Batman into a pop culture icon, but he's the gayest Batman _I've_ ever seen…**

**But in order to keep them alliterative, they are a bit silly… Oh well – this fic is hardly _Small Print_, now is it?**

**This chapter: Witness Cyborg pit his wits against Batman and Robin!**

**It's all in good jest…**

**Thankyou sooooooooo much everyone who has reviewed! Li-kun05, Skoellya, Depths of Passion, Me, Death Merchant, Koril Dragonic, Jadee, Nonasuki-chan and Koruyuha!**

_Wertham's Law – _V

Of Bats and Birdies

"He won't… _really_ tell, will he?" Robin asked worriedly, wringing out his cape onto the floor of the passenger side of the Batmobile.

"Of course he'll tell," Batman replied dismissively, pulling down his sopping cowl with unneeded drama. "He'll tell everyone who'll listen; and he'll tell everyone who _won't_ listen. He shriek it as they strap him into a straightjacket and he'll screech it in the corridors as they lead him to his solitary confinement cell and he'll scream it when he's in there alone for anyone who passes by to hear. You expect him to keep _quiet_ about it?"

Robin gaped at him in horror.

"Then what are we going to do? We can't let him-"

"Dick, as I said…" Batman turned his bored gaze on him. "…He's a _madman_. He's _always_ shouting things like that. No-one even _listens_, much less _believes_ him."

"But… he _saw_ us…!" Robin was rapidly getting very worked up. "Bruce, he saw us, and-"

"And you should calm down," Batman cut in evenly. "It makes no difference whatsoever that he saw us. No-one _else_ saw us and no-one will believe him. If you must know… he's been saying it for _years_."

"What, that we're…?"

Batman nodded curtly.

"I went to Arkham to talk with him a little while after you left for Jump City, and after we were done with the interrogation, he asked where _you_ were. So I told him it was none of his business and he giggled and said I was tense because I hadn't been getting any recently…" Bruce scratched his wet hair. "I'm inclined to believe that he might have been right about that, unfortunately…" He smiled at the Boy Wonder. "I missed you so much I didn't even go on any dates for _months_…"

"My heart bleeds for you," Robin replied tersely.

Batman raised his eyebrows at the rebuke.

"Anyway, the point is," he went on carelessly, "as I left, he sang down the corridor after me, in a loud enough voice that everybody in the corridor could hear, "A bat and his birdy sitting in their tree, F-U-C-K-I-N-G…"

Robin looked at him, aghast.

"He didn't!"

"He did." Batman sounded amused now. "And all he got for his pains was a jab with the electrical prod. Back then, he did it just to annoy me and everyone else. Now that he has seen that he is correct, it won't change anything at all. It's the boy-who-cried-wolf complex."

"But he'll say he _saw_ us!" Robin burst out.

"Dick, if the _Joker_ told you something like that, would _you_ believe him?"

Robin considered it for a while.

"No," he admitted finally. "Even if it was true."

"Which it is." Batman grinned. "But I wouldn't believe him, and you wouldn't believe him, and Gordon won't believe him, and Bullock won't believe him, and all of the other inmates won't believe him unless they're as mad as he is."

"Most of them are," Robin pointed out.

"In which case no-one will believe _any_ of them."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Robin, I _put_ most of them there. Trust me, I'm familiar with them…" Batman reached over and lifted his chin. "Now, cool it, okay? Everything's going to be fine."

Robin pulled his head away.

"Everything is _not_ fine!" He snapped. "What we do is _illegal_, Bruce! I'm a minor, and-"

"Not anymore. We're legally allowed to have a relationship if we wish, because you're sixteen. Granted, you are a little young, but-"

"And what about all those _other_ times, huh?" Robin spat. "I was _nine_ when you took my virginity! _Nine_! _That_ is illegal!"

"The Joker doesn't know you were only nine."

"Bruce, it is wrong in _so_ many ways. It's statutory rape, pedophilia-"

"Now stop it!" Bruce interrupted angrily. "I don't love you because you are – or _were_ – a _child_. I would love you if you were _older_ than me. I love you because you're _you_. Dick Grayson is who I love, and it's not my fault you're so much younger than me."

"You think the _law_ cares about things like that?" Robin asked, exasperated. "They will see "twenty-eight-year-old man screws nine-year-old boy" and they'll put you down for _years_."

"_If_ we were ever caught," Batman mused. "Which we _won't_ be. Trust me, the Joker knowing won't change a thing. For one thing, he's mad. Second, he's got _no_ proof whatsoever. And anyway, he saw _Batman and Robin_ kissing; _not_ Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson. Even if the authorities _did_ decide to look into it – which they _won't_, so don't look so worried – how can they prosecute Batman? They don't know who I am, where I live… _and_ they'd have to _catch_ me first."

Robin had to admit that Bruce was probably right; but even so, it was an old paranoia doggedly persistent, and he couldn't fight it down and away so easily.

"Well, I was thinking… maybe the Titans and I should go home tomorrow," he said finally, his voice small. "I don't like to leave the city unprotected, and I think they're just messing up the house so that Alfred has even more work, and—"

"Three days," Batman interrupted coldly, the sad excuses flicked away by his intense stare. "You promised me three days. It's only been one."

"Don't use my promises against me," Robin moaned in aggravation.

"I expect you to _keep_ your promises. That's how I taught you, and I should think that is how your parents taught you…"

"You can't stop me from leaving."

"Yes I can."

"How?" Robin challenged him. "Locking me in the BatCave?"

"Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of handcuffing you to the bed…"

Batman leaned into the boy and Robin batted him away irritably.

"Don't! I'm not playing!"

"Neither am I. I saved your life. The least you could do to repay me… would be to keep your promise to me."

"Three days of endless petting, licking, fondling and screwing on the backseat of the Batmobile?"

"In less blunt terms, yes." Batman grinned. "You _owe_ me…"

There was a painful silence that stretched taut, threatening to split into misunderstandings.

"I just don't want you to… _get hurt_," Robin said quietly, breaking and diffusing the silence with his compassion. "Why won't you let me _save_ you?"

Batman actually looked touched.

"I doubt that anyone _can_, but…" He drew close to the boy – so close that their mouths were touching, and so that Robin felt the movement of Batman's lips against his own when he spoke again, as they breathed the same breath, the same life flowing into the both of them. "…_Knowing that you try makes me love you all the more…_"

Robin smiled.

"_That_," Batman went on, his voice low and lust-filled, "and the fact that you have the most _beautiful_ smile…"

The boy leaned his head back as Batman began to gently, tenderly devour his throat.

"You have two more days," he murmured, gripping at his lover's wet hair.

Batman lifted his head.

"I'll use them well. And I intend to start using them… _right now_…"

"I thought you might say that…"

They shared another long, hard, hot, deep kiss; matching their rhythm to the sound of the rain pounding down on the outside of the Batmobile as it sat atop of a cliff overlooking the city.

"Hey," Batman whispered, drawing away and pulling Robin's cape off over his head. "…I had this car built one-way soundproof for a reason… _We_ can hear what's going on _outside_, but anyone outside can't hear a thing of what's going on _in here_…"

"That's… good…" Robin panted as Batman's mouth moved down his neck, kissing and biting.

"Isn't it?" Batman lifted Robin's red shirt off over his head. "I'm tired of you being so paranoid… You can _scream_ as loud as you want in here. _No-one will hear_…"

"Oh, yeah, that's _good_…" Robin moaned under his breath as Batman began to suck at his nipples.

Batman wasn't even sure what the boy was talking about anymore – the soundproofing of the car, or the feeling he was evoking in him.

"_I… love you_," Robin groaned breathlessly, arching right into Batman's mouth and gripping at the back of his head. "It's against… the law… _but_ _I love you… so much_…!"

Batman kissed Robin's navel, unbuckling his belt.

And then he glanced up and smiled.

"It's against _whose_ law?…"

**TT**

"Yo, any of you guys think…?"

Cyborg trailed off as he looked up from the leather-bound book entitled _Advanced Car Hydraulics_ he had found in Wayne Manor's extensive library; the other three Titans were, of course, ignoring him. Beast Boy was zoning out in front of the huge TV in the front room and Raven and Starfire were playing chess.

Needless to say, Raven was winning.

Cyborg himself was cosied in a leather armchair, a cup of coffee resting nearby, enthralled by the book he had found. His own volumes were not nearly as in depth.

The sound of _Animaniacs_, or whatever ridiculous cartoon Beast Boy was watching now – perhaps _Tom and Jerry_, _Ren_ _and Stimpy _or _Looney Tunes_; Cyborg just couldn't tell – was a distant background noise to him, as was the sound of the heavy slanted rain outside.

It was a rare and comfortable scene, gently disturbed now and then by Alfred, who came in to see if they were okay, or to offer tea and biscuits.

Robin had been with them earlier – it had been him who had taken Cyborg to the mechanics sections of the library, and after returning to the front room he had lain sprawled out on the fur rug on the floor reading old comic books he had found in his room.

But it was evening now, and dark outside; Bruce Wayne had returned home. Robin had leapt up as soon as he heard the front door open and hadn't come back since.

None of his friends had batted (pardoning the expression) an eyelash.

Until now.

Cyborg cleared his throat; in truth, the idea had just occurred to him and he wasn't sure how to word it.

"Anyone know where Robin went?" He asked again.

Raven looked up.

"To go see Bruce, I guess…"

"Then why didn't he come back?"

Raven shrugged.

"Father-son time?"

"He's been totally blowing us off for him."

Raven shrugged again.

"What did you expect? That _is_ what he came here for, remember? To see Bruce?"

"Yeah, but he really wasn't so keen on seeing him," Cyborg argued, "and _now_ he's all over him?"

"I think he was nervous about seeing him again. People can change a lot in just two years, Cyborg. Maybe Robin was worried Bruce wouldn't be the same."

"Or… maybe _Robin_ has changed, and was worried that Bruce wouldn't take it so well…"

"There is that." Raven deftly took one of Starfire's bishops with her telekinesis. "Whatever it was, the air between them appears to have cleared. Which is a _good_ thing."

"Hmm." Cyborg closed his book; both Starfire and Raven were listening to him now.

Beast Boy was still oblivious, staring wide-eyed at the TV.

"I just… I get this weird feeling whenever I…" Cyborg faltered again.

"Perhaps they are merely glad to see one another again?" Starfire questioned. "It has been a long time, after all…"

"Starfire's right," Raven sighed. "They're going through a… "honeymoon" period. They are so happy to be together again that they just want to be in each other's company. The novelty will wear off, I assure you. Why, are you worried Robin will want to stay here in Gotham?"

"No, it's just…" Cyborg scratched his head. "I can't place it. If you ask me, there's something a little bit weird about the way they get along with each other… Something that's kinda… _too_ affectionate…"

Beast Boy's ears suddenly pricked up.

"Dude, you think they're gay?" He asked, joining in the conversation, effectively blowing Cyborg's carefully constructed delicacy away with the blatant accusation.

"I…" Cyborg tugged at the neck of his grey sweatshirt. "…I think it's a possibility…"

Raven snorted.

"Don't be ridiculous. That's against the _law_."

"Being a homosexual isn't against the law, Raven," Beast Boy corrected.

"Not being a homosexual," Raven replied scathingly. "I mean _them_ in particular. Robin is _far_ too young for him…"

"Ew, yeah!" Beast Boy agreed. "That'd make Wayne some kinda child-molester!"

"Cyborg, you must not say such things about our kind host and our friend!" Starfire reprimanded him. "Truly, Mr Wayne would not commit such evil deeds!"

Cyborg shrugged helplessly.

"There's _something_ going on between them…"

"You can't _prove_ that," Raven muttered; Beast Boy had already lost interest in the conversation and had gone back to his cartoon.

Cyborg shrugged as Starfire and Raven went back to their game. Okay, so _that_ hadn't gotten him anywhere.

Raven was right; he couldn't _prove_ it…

…but he _could_ go find Robin and Bruce…

**TT**

Alfred stood frozen outside the door to the front room, his silver tray poised on his still hand.

He had heard every word.

Oh yes; he knew what Master Bruce and his young ward got up to. He did not _approve_ of it, but he _understood_ it. He knew what they found in each other.

That each was the other's Band Aid. Protecting and healing, filling in the holes that life had gouged out of the both of them.

He was old and wise enough to know this.

But Master Dick's friends…

They were young. Immature.

They would not understand.

Only condemn.

And so Alfred set down his tray and hurried off to find and serve his master once again.

**TT**

"_Mmm_," Dick purred under his breath, arching into Bruce's touch. "You're so good to me…"

Bruce smiled around another warm kiss.

"So good to _me_, you mean…" He trailed his hand down the boy's naked chest and onto his stomach. "I'm just using your body for _my_ pleasure…"

"Use away," Dick replied heartlessly. "It feels great…"

"Ah, but I wish only to cause you _pain_…" Bruce nibbled at Dick's earlobe. "To _torture_ you and make you _scream_…"

Dick smiled twistedly.

"If _that's_ what you want – to hear me scream – you could start by _unbuckling my belt_…"

Bruce leaned back and laughed, genuine amusement sparkling in the usually cold eyes.

"Are we forever doomed to utter this smutty, perverted banter?"

"_You're_ the one who called _me_ wanton," Dick reminded him reproachfully.

"Ah, I did…" Bruce began to work the buckle of Dick's belt loose with one hand. "How cruel of me. Can you ever forgive me?"

"I don't know, it was pretty harsh," Dick mocked him. "You'll have to make it up to me…"

Bruce bit one of his nipples, rolling the nub carefully between his teeth.

"You're forgiven," Dick squeaked.

Bruce lifted his head and completely parted Dick's belt.

"Oh, I haven't even started yet…"

Dick exhaled deeply, sighing the sigh of a martyr.

"Must you punish me so?" He asked dramatically, putting his hand to his forehead.

"Oh, but you're so _bad_…"

The pair of them started giggling wildly as though they had both inhaled the Joker's laughing gas, their faces practically touching. It wasn't unusual for them to behave in this way, as though they were acting one of Shakespeare's romantic comedies – simply messing around and cherishing the rare times they were alone together out of costume, untroubled by various members Gotham's Rogue's Gallery.

As usual, it wasn't to last.

There was a knock, but before Bruce could even leap off and certainly before they could compose themselves, Alfred poked his head into Bruce's luxurious bedroom.

"Forgive my interruption, Master Bruce, Master Dick…"

The elderly butler looked a little embarrassed by the state in which he had found them; sprawled on the covers of Bruce's king-sized bed, the billionaire pinning his ward down, and said ward with his legs wide apart to accommodate for the older man lying between them. Bruce had shed his jacket but still wore his white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, his wine-colored silk tie, loose around his neck, black pants, belt and shoes. Dick was in a worse state of undress – his blue V-neck jumper was cast aside, his white long-sleeved shirt unbuttoned right the way down and untucked, baring his chest, his belt unbuckled, he was barefoot, and his neat hair was tousled.

But that wasn't what was important right now.

Alfred cleared his throat.

"Alfred, if you don't mind, old friend," Bruce said coolly.

"Sirs, I come to warn you," the butler told them equally frostily. "It would seem that young Master Dick's friends – or one of them, at least – suspects of your "nightly activities"."

"They know he's Batman," Dick said, sitting up.

Alfred raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed. I was talking about your _other_ nightly activities. Or, in fact, the activities in which you are both participating – or _were_, until I so rudely interrupted – right now…"

Dick's blue eyes widened as the old paranoia reared up again, mutating into a deep fear.

If his friends knew… what would they think?

"You're serious, Alfred?" Bruce asked, keeping his composure perfectly as he kneeled up and straightened his tie.

"All too serious, sir."

"Which one?" Dick asked shakily, mind still reeling from the ramifications of discovery. "Raven?"

"Young Master Stone, actually."

Cyborg…

"He is looking for you," Alfred went on. "I don't know what he expects to find, but perhaps it would be best for the pair of you to…?"

"Right! Right, of course…" Bruce said distractedly, swinging off Dick. "Thankyou, Alfred…"

"My pleasure, sirs…"

Alfred closed the door again, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Of all the people the elderly Englishman had ever met, Bruce Wayne was quite the strangest, and not just because he dressed up as a bat to fight _other_ lunatics in costumes…

"Bruce, what are we going to do?" Dick asked frantically.

"_You_ are going to calm down," Bruce said serenely, hurriedly tightening his tie again and buttoning the collar of his shirt even so. "And then I'm going to put you in the closet."

Bruce threw on his jacket, neatened his hair up, and there he was, as pristine as ever.

Dick, on the other hand, was panicking; fumbling with the buttons of his shirt in his distress.

"Do it in the closet," Bruce told him, picking him up around the waist and opening the huge closet door. He threw in him, then tossed his socks (he hadn't been wearing shoes), belt and jumper in after him.

"Now be quiet and get dressed," he whispered. "I have a plan to throw your friend off. Don't say a word or come out until I open the door again."

He shut the closet door and went across the room, snatching up his briefcase and throwing it onto the bed. He unlocked it and pulled out a brown envelope marked _LexCorp_. Slipping out the documents, he settled on the edge of the bed and got comfortably immersed in them.

He listened, but there wasn't a sound from the closet. Dick – trained as Robin – was gifted in the art of silence.

Then, as he had expected, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" He called.

The door creaked open and there, as predicted, stood Cyborg – dressed in his grey sweatsuit with a slightly abashed expression on his face.

"Cyborg!" Bruce beamed. "Come in, come in!"

"Did… I come at a bad time?" Cyborg asked, entering the room.

Bruce watched him look around and smiled to himself.

Suspicious kid. If it wasn't for Alfred…

"Not at all," Bruce assured him genially. "I'm just reading over a few LexCorp documents." He waved the envelope to prove his point. "But… is there anything in particular I can help you with?"

"Oh, I was…" Cyborg grinned awkwardly. "I was just looking for Robin…"

"He's not in here."

"I can see that." Cyborg frowned, definitely thrown off. "You know _where_ he is?"

"Library," Bruce fabricated smoothly.

"Oh."

"I'll get him for you if you want," Bruce said amiably, getting up.

Cyborg's response was the one he had predicted;

"Oh, no, Mr Wayne," the half-robotic teen assured him hurriedly. "I can go find him myself!"

Bruce smiled to himself; aha, yes, the teen was smart. Possibly employing "detective" techniques he had picked up from Robin, perhaps his own intuition.

Cyborg suspected that Robin _had_ been in the room with Bruce; and that Bruce had maybe pushed him into a closet outside the room. Bruce had said he was in the library – he could easily slip outside and get Robin from wherever he had hidden him. By offering to go get him himself, Cyborg was eliminating Bruce's chance to do that.

Bruce couldn't help but be impressed – he was, however, the Batman.

He had already thought of all of this.

Looking around the room again, Cyborg noticed that the door to the en suite bathroom was shut.

"Um, hey, I know this is kinda pushy," Cyborg said assertively, "but would you mind me using your bathroom a sec? It's such a maze in here; I'll never find my own room in time, and, you know…"

Bruce grinned and sat down, picking up his LexCorp documents again.

"Yes, I do know…" He gestured towards the door. "Please, go right ahead."

Cyborg was thrown again. Would Bruce really be so pleased if he _had_ put Robin in there to hide him?

Bruce smiled again as the bewildered Teen Titan went into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

Cyborg searched the bathroom but, of course, didn't find anything. He was actually beginning to doubt his theory – Bruce Wayne seemed utterly unruffled and immaculate, and there was no sign of Robin whatsoever. There was no way Robin could have gotten past him down to the library, so that meant that Robin wouldn't be in there if he went down now.

If he _was_, it only meant one of two things.

One: Cyborg was wrong and Robin had been down there all along.

Two: Cyborg had been outsmarted by Batman.

Although he conceived that it was more likely to be the second option, there was still no way that Robin would beat him down to the library unless he had been there all along.

So Cyborg would have to go down and check, wouldn't he?

But first… he had to throw Wayne off.

Bruce looked up as Cyborg swung open the bathroom door again.

"Better?"

"Yep. Thanks."

"You going to go find Robin now?"

"Nah, it's okay," Cyborg told him cordially. "It wasn't even important. Just something about one of his comic books. I'll ask him when I see him…"

"Okay." Bruce went back to his documents. "Anything else?"

"Nope. See ya later," Cyborg said with a grin, heading for the door. "By the way, awesome house…"

"Why, thankyou…"

Cyborg was gone.

Or rather, he was standing outside the door, listening.

Bruce smiled and shook his head. A little bubble of vanity even swelled in him – the boy was pitting his wits against _Batman's_.

_Puleeeze_.

Eventually his sharp hearing caught the sound of Cyborg shuffling away from the door, the cybernetic teen concurring that Robin wasn't in the room with him. And now, if he was correct, Cyborg would go down to the library to see if Robin was there.

Robin _wasn't_ there.

But he _would_ be in a minute's time.

Bruce opened up the door and Dick came out of the closet.

He was, of course, pristine again, with his shirt buttoned up, blue jumper over it, and the white collar and cuffs poking out. His socks and belt were also back in place.

His hair was still untidy, though; Bruce whipped out a comb from the top pocket of his jacket, spat onto it, and quickly restyled his hair, twisting the cowlicks over his forehead with his finger.

"Perfect," Bruce said smartly, slipping the comb back into his pocket.

"So _how_ do I get down to the library before Cyborg?" Dick asked snippily.

"Easy." Bruce walked over to his heavy wooden desk and hopped up onto it, reaching up and pulling loose a large panel in the ceiling. Pointing up at the large square hole, he grinned. "Secret passage network."

Dick gaped at him.

"Is there anything this house _doesn't_ have?" He asked eventually, incredulous.

"A signed _Beatles_ album on the wall of every room."

"Apart from that…"

Dick leapt up onto the desk too and Bruce picked him up, pushing him up into the tunnel.

"Which way is it?"

"Hang on, I'm coming with you…" Bruce gripped the edge of the hole and hauled himself up after his ward. He pushed at him to move. "Come on, move it. I'll tell you which way it is…"

"Did you do this yourself?" Dick asked, crawling along ahead of him.

"Yeah."

"_Why?_"

Bruce shrugged.

"I get bored here all by myself…"

"Uh-huh. And what did you do _before_ I came along?"

"Dug tunnels. BatCave, remember?"

"You're in the wrong profession. You should be a miner." Dick frowned. "Or at _least_ change your alter-ego from "Batman" to "Moleman"."

"_Moleman_?"

"Moles spend their lives digging tunnels… and so do you, by the sound of it."

"_Thanks_…"

"Alfred know about this?"

"No. Which is a good thing, otherwise he'd _insist_ on cleaning it…"

Eventually they stopped and Bruce pushed him aside, prying up another tile and setting it to one side. He caught Dick around the waist, lowering him through the hole. One of the stacks was right underneath and less than three meters away; Bruce let him go and he landed safely on top of it. Swinging his legs over, he got into a sitting position and whipped out a book from the top shelf of the wooden stack.

Bruce grinned at him and placed the tile back over the hole, disappearing from view.

And Dick grinned too, smug at their victory over Cyborg; only wiping it off his face when he heard Cyborg himself calling his name following the creaking of the doors being opened.

"Robin? You in here?"

"Yeah, Cy!" Dick called back. "I'm over here!"

The silence that was Cyborg's stunned reply was enough to make Dick grin all over again.

Truly, he hadn't actually been expecting to _find_ Robin in here.

The half-robot tracked him down and stared up at him incredulously. Dick waved down at him happily.

"Hey, Cy. What's up? Apart from me, I mean…"

More stunned silence.

Then, finally;

"How long have you been in here?" Cyborg demanded.

"About an hour," Robin lied smoothly. "Bruce had some work to do concerning that LexCorp deal."

"Hmm." Cyborg wasn't entirely convinced, but then, he wasn't entirely _unconvinced_ either.

He just didn't know anymore. He had perhaps been a little hasty to jump onto the "They're gay!" bandwagon. He had no proof, as Raven had said. He hadn't seem them kiss or anything.

He just thought that they were a little bit… _clingy_ to each other.

And neither of them were really especially clingy guys.

He shrugged. He was either entirely wrong, or the pair of them were just really, _really_ slimy and had managed to dance rings around him.

He might be a Teen Titan; but _they_, after all, were Batman and Robin.

Urban legends.

And just _maybe_ illegal lovers.

Did it even _matter_?

"Coming to the lounge? BB wants to put on a movie."

"Okay." Dick slipped the book back into the shelf and slid down the ladder. "Bruce has _so_ many movies. And so many _Gray_ _Ghost _shows, too…"

"I'm cool with whatever."

"We'll let BB pick then."

"Sure…"

Cyborg trailed off, watching his friend sail past him.

Dick paused and looked back at him.

"What? Is it about my clothes again?"

"No, no…" Cyborg shook his head violently. "It's nothing…"

He caught him up and they left the library together.

Halfway to the front room, Cyborg shrugged and decided to just let it lie. It was too tiring to pursue, considering he was up against the "World's Greatest Detective" and his protégé.

He knew one thing, though; he had been outsmarted, not wrong.

And now he had his proof—

Dick's lips were bruised.

* * *

We actually did have a schedule planned for promptly releasing each of these chapters, but I sorta just blew that off. It is 100 percent true that the updating of stories is concurrent with the amount of reviews we get, and this fic hasn't taken as well as we thought it would, so I haven't really been inspired to finish the editing necessary for each update. Not that Wertham is doing badly or anything, in fact it is doing quite well! Every review we have gotten has been (surprisingly) positive and we thank each and every one of you for donating that little piece of happiness to us. Honestly, thank you all!

It's just that compared to a few of the _other_ things we write, this fic is somewhat neglected. Which is sad, because I really like it. Well…now I'm just moping. Leave a review and make me feel the love again!

**Yes, PLEASE review! It will stop Narroch from whining… Don't delay – donate to the "Stop Narroch Whining" charity today!**

**Also, to stop us both whining, who would like to check out our newest co-written fic, _Red Rum_? It's another cross between _Teen Titans_ and _Batman: TAS_ (like this) and focuses quite a lot on Detective Harvey Bullock as he attempts to track down a murderer picking off young superheroes. Batgirl's gone, and it won't be long before the killer sets their sights on the Teen Titans! It takes its inspiration from the Agatha Christie book _Ten Little Indians _and was put up like a month ago and only got five reviews… If you want to check that out, you'll have to look Narroch's (new improved!) profile instead of mine – it's the first fic we have co-written that has been put up on hers instead of mine… You can easily find her on my Favourites list…**

**Anyway, last chapter of _Wertham's Law_, _Live the Life You Love_, coming soon!**

**- RobinRocks and Narroch! xXx**


	7. VI: Live the Life You Love

**Whooo! Narroch here! And I'm doing the ANs all on my own this time! (a big step since RobinRocks usually does all the talking for us…) **

**Well, here we are with the last installment of this satire saturated fic. And we have been paying attention to the requests for a lemon that people put in their reviews, so yes, WARNING: there is a lemon in here. Not that it wasn't unexpected if you have read thus far already. Haha…**

**Consider it a late Valentines Day present!**

**Well damn…I'm not very good at this author note thing. I have run out of things to say already…Probably a good thing too, since you are all here to read the fic (I assume) instead of listening to me ramble. So without further ado, here is the last chapter of Wertham's Law. **

**Enjoy. **

_Wertham's Law – _VI

Live the Life You Love

As heroes, their self proclaimed job consistently provides a somewhat grandiose ego boost.

They work for eminent Ideology instead of any mortal manager; providing the services of Truth, Justice, and Peace. Heroes are untouchable, sitting on their Righteous golden pedestals, envied and glorified by the people they protect. Even if they weren't in it for the fame, eternal renown and appreciation still are not a bad deal.

And it certainly does help make up for the unavoidable times when their job becomes downright unglamorous.

Like when a villain crawls up from the anus of the Earth itself, spewing its foul smelling mud (with the same consistency and appeal of sludged over septic slops) over all of Gotham, and thoroughly coating them as well in the process.

Not to mention, besides the huge unremitting' _blech'_ factor, the villain is also quite creatively lethal, capable of creating any type of weapon, any form, any size, _anything _his psychotic clay steeped mind cares to conjure up…

Sometimes the hero-ing business is utterly unpalatable.

"Ugh, Clayface…" Robin muttered, plucking a thick glob of clay from his hair and then flicking it away. "_Not_ my favorite bad guy…"

"Oh, quit whining," Batman snapped, pushing back his clay-covered cowl. "At least he didn't slime you up that badly…"

"No, I was too busy clinging onto the corner of that roof for dear life…"

"Yes, well, it was a _little_ difficult for me to come save you while I was trying to avoid suffocation by mass clay…"

Robin wiped a smatter of clay off his cheek with the palm of his gloved hand, feeling as though he had smeared it in more instead of removing it. He frowned at his clay contaminated hand, the noxious gunk providing an overwhelming sense of deja-vu.

"He reminds me of Plasmus."

"Oh, yes, Plasmus." Batman nodded in agreement.

"You know him?"

"He was in Arkham for a little while, but they moved him to the prison in Jump City because it has better cryogenics technology. You know, to keep him in a sleeping frozen state?"

"Yeah, I guess Arkham does kinda specialize in padded cells more than anything else…"

"Well, I think Victor Fries used to do a lot of the cryogenics research, but then he went and-"

"-Became Mr Freeze and you had to sock his jaw," Robin finished boredly. "Yeah, yeah… We always knew this town was full of wackos…"

"Gosh, you sound almost jealous," Batman said dryly.

"Yeah, villain-wise, we have a lot of lames in Jump City…"

"And Slade."

"And Slade," Robin agreed wearily. "Who is really _not_ lame… unfortunately…"

Batman sighed.

"Well, enough about villains for one night. We're done, and Matt Hagen is back in his cell in Arkham where he belongs. Let's leave it there… and move onto more _important_ things…"

"Like taking a shower?"

"No." Batman picked Robin up and pinned him against the wall so that their faces were level. "Like spending the third and final night the way it _should_ be spent…"

"I am thinking much wild sex…" Robin said jadedly.

Batman grinned, libido practically drooling as he spoke.

"Among other things…"

"You spoil me."

"Hardly."

"Ah, yeah, I guess using your Bat-cuffs to secure me to the bed isn't exactly "spoiling" me…"

"Hmm. Feels good to watch you squirm, though…"

Robin gave him another dark twisted smile, reserved only for their bouts of foreplay teasing

"Pervert."

Batman stroked his hair, ignoring the glutinous residue pasted into it.

"Dear, _sweet_ Richard… you have never _seen_ utter perversion."

"You hold back?"

"If only to spare your innocence…"

Robin giggled crazily.

"_What_ innocence?"

Batman laughed now too.

"You're right; I have no need or _reason_ to hold back… So we'll just have to remedy that right now, won't we?"

They kissed; long and hard and deep in the dark – feeling and touching and writhing against one another. Neither one caring about the cold heavy sludge or the offensive smell or the closeness of those things between them, _on _them, because inside that kiss was warmth, light, and clarity. It was pure, and it compensated for the grime tainting an otherwise ideal romance.

And then when they finally broke away breathless, their hearts were racing in the rare way where both could win and be happy about it.

"Let's finish… this upstairs," Batman murmured, his chest heaving and eyes flashing with phosphorous want.

Robin nodded in happily dazed consent.

"Yeah… I have to say that… this is unlike you… coming right into the… house in uniform…"

Batman looked down at his filthy guise.

"Alfred will only… have to wash… it anyway… and I need a shower…"

"Like I said," Robin agreed, catching his breath, "Clayface… isn't one of my favorite people…"

Batman hitched Robin up in one arm and carried him up the staircase, his long cape not flowing as usual because of all the clay weighing it down.

Kind of ruined the effect, really.

Damn that Clayface.

**TT**

Cyborg and Beast Boy stared at each other, completely dumbfounded, from where they had been hiding. They had been on their way back from the games room after a few late-night rounds of air hockey and pinball and had overheard Batman and Robin discussing the case that had just cracked – Clayface – on _their_ way back up from the BatCave.

And… um…

The other four Titans might have come here to chill out – they hadn't lifted a super-powered finger in the whole two full days they had been here – but Batman had been slaving poor Robin by night, not allowing him to skip out when the Bat-signal was lit despite the fact that he was respectively a Teen Titan now, protector of Jump City, not Gotham.

He was not technically obliged to go charging down to the BatCave the second Bruce snapped his fingers, but he did anyway, because…

Well, Teen Titan or not, he was _Robin_.

The other half of "Batman and…"

So, actually, yeah; he _was_ kind of obliged.

If it wasn't for Bruce, he wouldn't even _be_ Robin – he'd just be some orphaned kid in a foster home or something.

Of course, none of this was wasted on Robin's two friends/team-mates as they stood, completely gobsmacked, staring now up the staircase after Batman and his protégé.

"_Tell_ me that didn't just happen," Beast Boy choked out finally.

"It happened," Cyborg replied tonelessly, shaking his head violently.

"I said tell me it _didn't_ just happen!"

"B, _you_ saw it, _I_ saw it…"

Beast Boy was silent for a while, still stunned.

"Whoa, dude, guess you were right about them…" he said finally, with the blunt aptitude of a two by four. "They _are_ gay."

Cyborg shivered and turned to the little green changeling.

"Beast Boy…" he hissed, "…it's _illegal_… Bruce Wayne is breaking the law…"

"Well, Robin _is_ old enough to-"

"Yeah, maybe _now_," Cyborg cut in, "but _look_ at them. Look at the way they behave with each other. This isn't a new thing. By the sound of it, they've been doing it for _years_. And if it's not illegal _now_, it would have been even just _last_ year, when Robin was fifteen. And Robin left when he was _fourteen_, so that would mean that he was even _younger_ when they started… I'll bet _that_ was why Robin kept turning down his offers to come stay."

"I don't get it. If they have such big hots for each other, why didn't Robin want to come back? In fact, why did he even _leave_?"

"Robin's not dumb, BB. He knows it's against the law. If I know Robin, he probably left to protect Bruce."

Beast Boy snorted.

"You'd think a grown man would have more sense…"

"That is something I have been debating myself for many years now," came a familiar prim English voice from behind them.

Cyborg and Beast Boy both whipped around to find Alfred standing in the dark corridor right behind them, a cup of hot steaming tea in one hand and a book in the other. He had obviously been on his way to his own chambers when he had stumbled across them wildly whispering the hall.

"Alfie, you _knew_ about this?" Beast Boy burst out. "That they…?"

"Man, why didn't you _do_ something?" Cyborg asked.

"Such as what, may I ask?" Alfred looked at them helplessly. "Tell the police and bring everything crumbling down? _I_ would be moved on, and I tell you, I could not ever hope to find an employer so generous and kindly as Master Bruce. And I think not only for myself, before you brand me as selfish to put my own desires before the law. If I had told the police, young Master… _Robin_ would have been taken away, put into foster care. And Master Bruce himself? Thrown in jail as a child molester and rapist? Wayne Enterprises would be shut down, the manor boarded up, the name "Wayne" and the memories of Master Bruce's dear parents, Thomas and Martha Wayne, put into disgrace… You will understand why I could not do such a thing."

"But it's _pedophilia_!" Cyborg hissed. "He's been sleeping with a _kid_! You're telling me that Bruce Wayne, as Batman, goes around busting up petty crooks who break into jewelry stores, and then breaks the law in a far more serious way on his _own_ watch?"

Alfred sighed jadedly.

"Please, I know this is difficult for you to understand, and I do not mean to defend Master Bruce's actions, for I know they are both perverse and illegal," the elderly Englishman said patiently, "but you must understand why he does these things. Why _they_ do these things. And yes, I say "they". Master Bruce, whatever else he may be, is not a rapist. Master Robin has always been a willing participant, and if you will permit me, my young friends, I will explain to you _why_."

Beast Boy snorted.

"Go ahead. I don't think this can get any _crazier_…"

"When I first discovered what Master Bruce was doing, I was both shocked and appalled. The boy, at that time, was just nine years old…"

"Robin lost his virginity when he was _nine_?" Beast Boy repeated incredulously, the craziness which he had _thought_ couldn't escalate anymore doubled instantly and sent him careening into astonished disbelief all over again. Cyborg elbowed him, and Alfred continued past the interruption.

"I confronted Master Bruce about the matter, and I am not ashamed to admit that I was most disgusted and displeased by his behavior. I said many unkind things to him that day, but strangely he was not perturbed by my attitude. He merely, on the contrary, smiled distantly, as I recall, and told me that he had "finally found it". I was, of course, most confused by this enlightened statement – but I soon began to deduce the meaning by myself."

He looked them both carefully in the eyes gauging their reactions and then continued.

"The boy, your Master Robin, had been somewhat closed-up over the past year – that first year he was with us, although he responded well to the training Master Bruce and I put him through to prepare him for his debut into the crime-fighting world. He did, of course, miss his parents terribly and even though he liked it here at Wayne Manor, Master Bruce and I could not help but notice that he was somewhat wary of us; as if he was perhaps afraid of getting too attached in case we were taken from him too, or perhaps it was the fact that he knew that since Bruce could not legally adopt him, there was a chance he could be moved on. If Bruce got sick of him, all he would have to had to do would be to go down to the Gotham Welfare Office, sign a few papers and the child would have been taken off his hands."

"_How_ is this relevant to Batman and Robin eating each other's face out in the hallway?" Beast Boy asked, irritated by the lengthy circumvention when all he wanted to hear was a brief explanation to obscure and dismiss the make-out session that was still disturbingly fresh and mushy in his mind.

Alfred quirked a single poised eyebrow, the rest of his face unmoving as he continued "It is relevant, young sir, because the boy suddenly _changed_. He opened up and flourished all of a sudden – he was like a very different child altogether. This was a little while before I found them…"

"Yeah, okay, no need to go into the details," Cyborg finished quickly. "So what are you saying? They fell in love and hey presto, all their worries melted away?"

"Not quite so clean cut, but yes, something along those lines," Alfred agreed vaguely. "Alone, they were desperate and forlorn, with no-one to relate to. But together… I must point out that they have both suffered exactly the same trauma – watching their parents die right before their young eyes. Master Robin was eight; Master Bruce only seven. The fact that neither of them has ever had to undergo psychiatric treatment is a wonder in itself."

"So, what? You saying that screwing each other is their cure for their "Traumatized Orphan Blues"?" Cyborg asked, half-mocking, half-incredulous.

"I am afraid so." Alfred sighed. "I know this is difficult for you to understand. It has taken me this many years to accept it myself. But I have reasoned with myself, and I have come to this conclusion; Master Bruce is not an evil, sick, twisted person. He is a good, generous, hard-working man who risks his own life night after night so that the people of this city can feel safer. What he does in relation to young Master Robin is against the law, but he is not a pervert, and he is not a pedophile, and he is not a child molester. I know such defenses may seem ludicrous in the face of your discovery, but I stand by this; Master Bruce has never once forced that boy to do anything he does not want to, and he, furthermore, has never looked at another young boy before or after Master Robin's presence. It is not young boys that excite him – it is merely _that_ young boy. He truly does _love_ him, perhaps _more_ than he has ever loved anyone else, because he is able to relate to him; and that young boy in question – now a teenager – _returns_ that love for the same reasons. It is unnatural, granted; and yes, most certainly against the law. But it is also the thing that has _saved_ them – and neither you nor I may judge that."

There was silence for a while as they dutifully chewed on Alfred's poignant words, allowing the meaning to seep through to acceptance.

"Do _they_ know _you_ know?" Cyborg asked eventually.

"Yes. I have accidentally walked in on them too many times…" Alfred frowned. "I would, however, suggest that you two keep what you have seen to yourself. I implore, for their sakes, that you tell no-one else, _or_ them."

"What, we're supposed to keep a ground-breaking story like that to _ourselves_?" Beast Boy was only half-joking. "You know how much _money_ newspapers would pay for _that_ story? _Batman and Robin; As Un-Straight as Curly Fries. _I mean, _seriously_…"

"You are not to say one blasted word!" Alfred snapped; the two Titans shrank back, alarmed. They hadn't seen the serene Brit act this way before in the whole two-and-a-half days they had been here.

Beast Boy scratched one of his ears.

"Although, I guess you're right," he relented weakly. "Batman and Robin; I mean, they're role models. If everyone knew they were doing each other off, I mean, that could be a _really_ bad influence on kids. Might turn them all gay or something…"

Cyborg rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, right…"

"Please, I beg of you…" Alfred was calm again now. "…Just leave them be. I agree with you every step of the way that what they do is wrong, but they are _happy_; and their happiness is what matters more to me. Master Bruce may be an adult while Master Robin is still little more than a child just sniffing at the entrance to manhood, but deep inside, they are both the same – two broken, orphaned little boys. They have saved each other when no-one else _could_. I have always worried that Master Bruce was too absorbed in vengeance – dressing in that horrifying costume and terrifying the criminal underworld of this city; for, as my fellow countrymen known as the Beatles once said, "all you need is love". And Master Bruce has finally found that and I tell you, _he_ has changed too, and it is for the better. In the end… does it really _matter_ where and in what form he found it?"

Cyborg and Beast Boy digested all that the Englishman had said for a few awkward seconds but finally, eventually, accepted the truth of the justification.

It was wrong, what they did. It was against the law; and it was kind of creepy.

But Bruce wasn't _hurting_ Robin – they were _happy_. It was what they both wanted. Alfred was not excusing pedophilia under that same guise – but then, Bruce and Robin weren't a normal case.

It just wasn't worth getting involved in, was basically what Alfred was saying.

Alfred eventually bade them goodnight and walked away to his own room to drink his tea and read his book, rolling his eyes.

Really, these Americans…

"You really think it _would_ turn kids gay?" Beast Boy asked after a few moments' silence.

"Nah," Cyborg replied. "If that were true –that kids' behavior is _that _easy to influence– then the whole kid population of Jump City would just be eating pizza and playing Gamestation all day…"

"Yeah, we're pretty cool ourselves, huh? The Teen Titans?"

"Yup. Except not gay."

"Nope. Well, _Robin_ is."

Cyborg shrugged.

"You know, I really don't think there's a _thing_ we can do about that, B…"

"I guess we should have known they were fruits all along."

Cyborg was amused as they started towards their respective rooms.

"Why's that?"

"Dude," Beast Boy said, quite seriously, "they have _flowers_ in their house…"

"Oh, right, major clue. They _must_ be gay…"

"_And_ Bruce was wearing a dressing gown at breakfast…"

"Nice work, Sherlock. What, you think someone wrote a rule book about being gay, and if you did all these things, you were automatically a homosexual? You know, like a list? Flowers in house, wearing a dressing gown, sharing a couch… oh, they are _so_ gay!"

Beast Boy considered that.

"You know, Cy… someone probably _did_…"

"So Robin and Bruce are breaking _their_ laws too?"

Beast Boy nodded conspiratorially.

"Yeah, jeez… for two famous superheroes, they sure are a pair of delinquents…"

"B… what do you expect from a guy who dresses up like a _bat_?"

Beast Boy grinned.

"_Trick or Treat?_"

**TT**

Robin lay sprawled on his back on the covers of Bruce's king-size bed, still in his uniform.

He could hear the shower running next door in the en suite bathroom – Batman had been covered in clay, having nearly been completely smothered by Clayface by the time Robin had hauled himself up from the edge of the roof again and lobbed a few explosive disks in his direction. He had been splashed a little by the exploding Clayface, but had fared pretty well in the "Stay Clean" stakes as compared to his partner.

Bruce was done pretty quickly, coming back into the main bedroom in less than ten minutes, vaporous steam trailing after him from the open bathroom door. He was completely naked except for a towel wrapped around his waist, his wolfish muscles rippling subtly beneath his droplet studded skin. His black hair was damp and tousled from where he had rubbed a towel through it, giving him a somewhat feral look. His Batman uniform was slung over one arm and he tossed it into the bottom of the closet, shutting it again; while it was highly unlikely that some visitor would come snooping around his bedroom, it wasn't exactly a good idea to leave his uniform lying around either. The only reason he had avoided exposure for so long, was by being justifiably cautious.

He flopped down onto the bed when he was done, throwing all of his weight down to make Robin bounce into the air on impact. The boy flailed and attempted to right himself, resulting in him landing on his face instead of his back. He picked himself up and scrambled onto Bruce's chest, lying face down on top of him.

"You going to take that uniform of yours off?" Bruce asked idly.

"Too lazy," Robin muttered. "All those buttons and fastenings… you'll have to do it for me…"

"Oh dear. That's rather a demand. Who died and made _you_ king?"

"The last one." Robin still didn't lift his head.

"Then you should have something _fit_ for a king…"

"Like this bed?"

"Better."

Bruce shifted Robin off him and leaned over to the bedside cabinet; opening the top drawer, he pulled out an unopened box of luxury Belgian chocolates.

"I've been saving them for tonight," Bruce whispered as Robin drew close to him again – although he was now more interested in the chocolates than in Bruce. "Our last night together…"

Robin looked up at him.

"We'll come again. I think my friends like it here…"

"What about you?"

"Oh, you might have to _persuade_ me," Robin teased. "I mean, not that it wasn't _fun_ having Clayface explode all over me and nearly being blown to bits in a _Tunnel of Love_ by the Joker and Harley Quinn…"

Bruce untied the purple silk ribbon on the chocolate box and slid off the lid.

"How about I let you have first pick?"

"You've twisted my arm."

He could see that they were expensive chocolates – please, Bruce was a _billionaire_. These chocolates were simply the absolute _best_ money could buy.

As if they'd be anything _less_.

After reading the little card Robin took an excruciatingly long time picking his chocolate, his hand hovering over about three or four different choices before he went with the faithful caramel-filled.

"_Excellent_ choice," Bruce acknowledged, raising his eyebrows; watching as the boy bit into the little pod of satisfaction and pull his hand away, leaving a string of silky caramel dangling from the half he hadn't eaten.

And then he snatched that other half out of his ward's hand and tauntingly held it up out of his reach.

"No!" Robin squealed, diving at him.

"Ah, the way to your heart," Bruce said with a smile. "Chocolate. Caramel-filled, to be more precise. Your favorite."

Robin straddled Bruce's stomach and put one hand on his chest, reaching to get his chocolate back.

"Pitiful." Bruce waved it over his head. "I'm going to eat it…"

"After I drooled all over it?"

"Of course."

"No!" Robin wailed; but Bruce ignored him and flicked the other half into his mouth.

"There's a _whole box_!" Robin snapped, weakly pounding on Bruce's chest.

"I wanted _that_ one…"

"Sure you did…"

Bruce suddenly flipped him over, making him squeal as he was pitched onto his back on the mattress. In seconds Bruce was on top of him, locking him up so that he couldn't escape from beneath him. Not as though Robin wanted to.

"You're right, there's a whole box…" Bruce reached over to it, not taking his eyes from Robin's still-masked ones, and picked another one. He held the chocolate perfection just above Robin's face and waved it slightly to and fro. The boy's eyes followed the sweet temptation avidly, his desperation for the creamy coated confection, held tauntingly _just_ out of reach, sextupled.

"White chocolate shell, filled with strawberry cream mousse," the billionaire went on, his voice low and husky. "Your second favorite. To _die_ for…"

He put it into his mouth, and Robin moaned, thinking the flawless strawberry chocolate was going to go the same way as the stolen caramel and be lost to him forever. Instead, Bruce grinned mischievously at him, still holding it between his teeth and lowered his face towards Robin's. Robin took it with a kiss which crushed the candy between their lips, the shell and filling sliding down into his open mouth as they worked their tongues together. Robin relished the sweet silky flavor and texture of it, paired with Bruce's hot seeking lips still against his as he slowly chewed it. And then Bruce moved his head down and kissed his ward's Adam's apple as it bobbed in his throat when he swallowed.

Robin purred against him, closing his eyes as Bruce pulled off his cape and threw it aside, beginning to unbutton his crimson shirt, the yellow fastenings falling away in satisfying surrender.

Robin opened his eyes again as he heard a sudden fluttering sound; looking up past Bruce's head where he was kissing his collarbone, he saw a tiny black bat flapping around near the ceiling. How had that got in? But then he realized that Bruce must have left the bathroom window open to let the steam out. It was probably from the BatCave; Bruce could release it down there in the morning.

For now…

"Hey, Bruce, we have a visitor," he said softly, pointing upwards.

Bruce lifted his head from Robin's neck and looked up; the little bat had settled now on one of the brackets of the crystal chandelier above Bruce's king-sized bed.

"You mean a voyeur," Bruce muttered, working on unfastening Robin's utility belt. "Look, it's watching us. Perverted bat…"

"That makes two of you," Robin mused dryly as Bruce's hand slipped under the waistband of both his green pants and his shorts.

"Watch your mouth," Bruce whispered. "_I'm_ the one holding the cards here…"

"You're going to make me sorry?"

"Of course…" Bruce pulled off his gloves one by one, and then his shirt. "I'm going to make you _scream_ for mercy, my Boy Wonder…"

Robin kicked off his boots as Bruce threw aside his belt and started to peel down his pants. He tugged them to his knees and then watched amused as Robin squirmed the rest of the way out of his emerald spandex pants, twisting suggestively until he was completely nude and spread out as moist and crumbly as unbleached sugar beneath Bruce.

His gaze roved hungrily over Robin's body, slender and lithe- but strong, _so strong_. His hands smoothed over Robin, loving touches, kind and gentle. Even as he rubbed his thumb across the boy's lips and up through his ebony hair as he leaned down for another kiss. Even when they moved across his chest, his nipples suddenly standing as if they had been called to attention. Even when those hands trailed and teased downwards, into the nest of dark curly hair, and over the compliant heated flesh. The entire time, Bruce's touches were tender and reverent, but left Robin wanting more- building his desire until the boy was much like the remaining chocolates in the box: Sweet, swathed in silk, and ready to be devoured.

"Bruce! Please!" Robin gasped out, willing the man to stop the feather tipped torture.

"What is it my dear Robin? Too slow for you?" Bruce smirked.

In response Robin reached down and fingered the rolled hem of the towel draped around Bruce's waist with a devious glint reflected in his eyes right before he jerked the soft material off in one motion. Bruce groaned in delight, and the sound was drawn out once again when he felt the smaller agile hands stroke confidently across his hardness. Firm, and soft-skinned at the same time, still slippery from the clinging water of his shower, his length was perfectly cupped in Robin's hands- now slowly pumping in time with their breathing.

Robin seemed to think that teasing was necessary as well.

Bruce allowed the slow caresses for as long as he could, but soon he couldn't take it and a low growl rumbled from his chest. That was all the warning Robin got as he was suddenly dragged up and pinned forcefully into a kiss, Bruce's free hand once again groping for the chocolate box and blindly pulling another one of the delicacies from its interior.

Robin broke from the kiss with a gasp as he felt Bruce's large callused hand grip his erect member, something else also squished in his grasp and being smeared over his sensitive organ in velvety warmth. And then Bruce's head was ducking down lower, kissing and licking and nipping as he went until he reached his chocolate covered destination and Robin had to clench his jaw tight to keep the low keening moan from bursting out as a scream. Bruce was deftly licking away every trace of chocolate, working thoroughly over every inch and crevice until Robin was once again left clean and panting.

"Why did you stop?" Robin grumbled breathlessly.

Bruce laughed brashly seeing the pout entertaining his ward's lips. "Why? Were you close?"

He nodded with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, but all the chocolate was gone."

"There's a whole box left." Robin murmured coyly.

Bruce smiled lust heavy in his eyes now. "We don't need the chocolate for the next part." As he said this he simultaneously brushed a finger over Robin's opening, pressing it slowly in and then perfectly contradicted his previous statement by plopping another chocolate into Robin's mouth which gasped open at the intrusion.

Robin frowned at him, chewing the candy even as he did so. "That's not fair using chocolates to try and distract me."

"All's fair in love and war." Bruce said, laying fully over Robin, one hand working his ass, the other one fishing out another chocolate.

"Ready for another one?" Bruce asked holding a smooth dark chocolate under Robin's nose.

"You bet…" he replied in a daze, knowing what Bruce really meant.

Another finger was slowly pressed in, and once again, Robin's mouth fell open in a gasp of pain and the chocolate was placed inside and then covered by Bruce's lips. He passionately returned the kiss, pushing some of the melted chocolate from his mouth into Bruce's as he slowly felt the adjustments taking place; changing the pain into a mere stretching, a satisfying fullness that would soon take on a whole new level.

They were both used to this by now. Both of them entirely devoted to the other's pleasure. And they both knew that if they surrendered to the feeling, then they could _ride _it. And it would take them away. Take them to a higher place that their tragic reality couldn't touch or tarnish with the taste of death forever in their mouths, or the horror of their past forever looming on the edges of their peripheral. When they embraced each other, they also freed each other.

So, Bruce pulled Robin close, and Robin gripped Bruce tight, and they both released a moan as their bodies were joined together. The heated flesh throbbing and penetrating and simply _amazing_. There was no more need for words, or chocolates, or teasing as they were carried away by the feeling.

They began rocking together, steadily building a rhythm. Robin was pushed down onto the bed, his legs twined up and around the older man's hips as they began to thrust faster. Bruce was on his knees, bent over and holding the Boy Wonder's hips up meeting every buck Robin made. They were both in motion, completely lost to it and overwhelmed by the intense _need_ they felt. So they went faster and faster, simply trying to keep up until after an eternity of grinding and groaning, Robin suddenly gripped at Bruce's arm, going completely taut as he spilled over. His eyes went wide, and his mouth formed a perfect little 'o' of pleasure. The look on his partner's face coupled with the tightened muscles around his pumping length was enough to push Bruce to climax as well and he spurted forcefully into Robin's hot interior.

They were panting, covered in a sheen of sweat, and the orgasmic feelings were just barely starting to fade when Robin suddenly pulled Bruce into another kiss that lingered and savored and cherished the height of their devotion to each other. They pulled back breathless and gazed into their eyes for another long and treasured moment.

"I love you!" Robin unexpectedly burst out, the statement pure and unfettered, infinite. "I truly do. I love you Bruce Wayne."

He was slightly taken aback by the sudden fervent declaration. But his eyes softened, and the edges crinkled into a smile and he calmly replied "I love you too, Richard Grayson."

'Love,' a seductively simple four lettered word. But the_ connection_ associated with it, the complex chain reaction of chemical precursors, the deep remembrances and sensations, the truest sense of the word now flooding into his chest in the form of an intense emotion specifically designed to overwhelm logic and reason and _law. _

It cut through the disguises, the double lives. It cut through the superficial perverted banter, the desperate denial. It cut through the skeptical society which only wanted conformity.

The truth of the word cut through all that like a splinter of white lightening, insubstantial yet overwhelmingly powerful, and seared an intense connection between them. A bond of love that transcended their limited mortal ways and averted the small thinking so all they heard was the thunder and the tinkle, all they felt was the thick and the thin, and all they saw was the near and the far reflected in each other's eyes.

**TT**

Much later, they lay intertwined in the darkness and heat, Robin curled up to Bruce's broad chest.

The boy was sound asleep, a tiny contented smile on his pale pretty face.

Bruce was wide awake.

He knew that his Boy Wonder would leave him tomorrow, and so cherished the time now; glad that he was awake to appreciate it. To love the feeling of Dick Grayson's small warm presence against him – to hold him in his arms; breathe in his sweet, musky, honey-like scent; kiss his silky, shiny ebony hair; and taste his skin, a little salty with sweat.

He held him to him tightly, like a doll, and cried silent, empty tears.

For both his discovery of a cure for the pain; and the _loss_ of it too.

And for breaking the law to do it.

Whose law?

Did it even _matter_ anymore?

His tears were diamonds. Pure and clear and beautiful.

Just like his Boy Wonder.

Like Richard Grayson.

The tiny bat up on the chandelier fluttered soundlessly.

And somewhere out in the sky, another star burned out and died.

**TT**

Daylight.

Robin opened his eyes slowly and wriggled down into the soft deep warmth of Bruce's thick covers and acquiescent mattress.

He was alone.

Sitting up a little, he looked around. The curtains of one of the windows were drawn back; outside he could see the dim light of another cool, crisp October morning. It was a little misty out there, too.

He lay back again, checking out Bruce's alarm clock.

It had a little _Armani_ logo on it.

Robin rolled his eyes.

_Typical_.

It read, nonetheless, 8:01am.

They had already discussed their plans for the day. They would stay all day, eat dinner with Bruce when he came home from work, and then would be leaving for Jump City.

It was quite a drive.

The bedroom door opened and Bruce sauntered in, not clad in his dressing gown this morning. He was, on the contrary, fully attired in his business suit – grey today, and well-cut, with a crisp white shirt and a black tie.

Robin sat up again, pleased to see him.

"I just released our little friend down in the BatCave," Bruce told him with a small smile. "It was flapping all over the place when I woke up this morning…"

Robin smiled as Bruce approached the bed and sat down on the edge of it.

"Anyway, good morning," Bruce went on, leaning over for a kiss – a worthy endeavor, for Robin presented him with a most passionate reward, gripping the back of his head. Bruce returned the favor with enthusiasm, then eventually broke away, his chest heaving.

"And a good morning it is," he muttered, wiping his mouth.

Robin shot him a shy little grin and dropped his head.

"What's wrong…?"

"Nothing."

Bruce got up again and went to the window, resting his hands on the sill.

"Or a not-so-good morning," he corrected himself with a sigh. He pulled a face, which Robin saw in the reflection in the window. "Ugh, I don't feel like going out there today…"

"Then don't go."

Bruce straightened up and looked over at Robin, who was still zealously hawking his bed.

"Pardon, Dick?"

"I said don't go." Robin drew a few little circles with his finger on the covers over his lap. "Call in sick. Or say you have an infestation of something…"

"Like what?" Bruce mocked. "_Bats_?"

"No. Uh… silverfish? Or… roaches."

"That's not giving Alfred very good credit."

"Yeah, but it's not _true_…"

Bruce crossed the room and stood at the end of the bed.

"You think… I should not go to work today?"

"Yeah."

"_Why_?"

"So you can stay with me all day." Robin looked up at him, smirking. "You should stay here and just… make love to me _all day_…"

"And you think that's a good idea?"

"Yes." Robin nodded quirking an eyebrow. "Yes, I do."

Bruce suddenly grinned.

"So do I, actually…It's rough going two years without Dick."

The mirth escaped Robin in a harsh bark of laughter at the double meaning. Bruce came around and sat at the head of the bed again, reaching for his bedside phone. Robin, still naked, and grinning deviously slithered over to him and began to rub against his back like a cat, nimble arms reaching around to stroke at his chest. Bruce effortlessly put him a headlock, refusing to be distracted while on the phone and he held Robin there as he struggled and writhed.

"Hello? This is Bruce Wayne. I'd like to speak to my chairman, Lucius Fox… Uh-huh… Yes, I… Lucius? This is Bruce. Listen, I won't be in today. I have a few little things to attend to…" He shot a sly little look at the struggling Boy Wonder on that line. "I… what? Luthor?" Bruce voiced a little groan. "Well, I… You know what, Lucius? Just cancel it. I'll see him tomorrow. Tell him… I have more pressing matters at the moment. Oh yes, I should be free tomorrow. Okay? Great. Thanks, Lucius. Yes, you too… uh-huh… 'Bye, then."

Bruce put down the phone and threw Robin onto his back, pinning him to the bed.

"Sorted." He smirked himself. "I'm all yours…"

They smiled.

And kissed.

And then Robin started to loosen up Bruce's tie as he lay on top of him.

"You know, skipping work and lying about it is against the law," Bruce murmured, tapping Robin's nose. "Like so many _other_ things…"

Robin looked up at him and grinned.

"It's against _whose_ law?…"

**END**

**AW! What a wonderfully sappy happy ending! Thank goodness it was Valentines, because I had to have a steady supply of chocolate in order to write this. I can't write about chocolate without having some myself. Otherwise I get too jealous of the characters, and suddenly I can't write them anymore…heh…randomness once again, I apologize. **

**Well kid's, it's been a blast and we both hope you have had as much fun reading this as we had writing this. **

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed this fic! Your feedback is what keeps us going! Thanks especially to everyone who reviewed in response to the last chapter where I was feeling all whiney. Ya'll really came through! Hot damn, we are loved! . **

**And now, you can continue with contributions of happy crack (AKA reviews) by clicking that little purple button down there! Let us know what you thought of the fic! You can be honest!! **

**Until next time!! **

**Narroch and RobinRocks**


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